


Gotta Be Cruel to be Kind

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Happy Ending, Inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You (1999), Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: "It’s just for a date or two." Calum sounds exasperated despite Michael's excuse being perfectly valid. "Ashton’s hot.""Ashton’s ashrew," he corrects, voice biting. "I’m not going to… to tame him, or whatever, just so you can convince some twink to go on a mediocre date with you."-The fandom required10 Things I Hate About Youfic.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	Gotta Be Cruel to be Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reversecow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversecow/gifts).



> Title is from _Cruel To Be Kind_ by Nick Lowe
> 
> This is dedicated to my best friend in the entire world, [Maia](http://reversecow.tumblr.com). I hope this is as cheesy as you wanted, and if it isn't, then you have permission to make me watch The Pirates of the Caribbean movies*

The first term of Michael's second year at university starts just as any other - with him running ten minutes late to class, yet still managing to show up before the professor. It’s not a magic trick or a skill he’s crafted, just plain, dumb luck that’s going to fail him eventually, but for now, he’ll take whatever advantage he can get. 

Not that being late to 19th Century Literature is going to affect his degree much in the long run. In fact, Michael can easily see himself skipping most of the lectures, only showing up for the important ones that involve tests and participation grades. Truthfully, the only reason Michael’s even taking this class is because it’s the last core class he needs to take before he can spend the next two and a half years focusing on his degree in Drawing and Painting. 

Although, that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy reading - he’s been privy to picking up a book before bed and getting lost in another world completely. There’s just a difference in reading for fun and being asked to analyze the words of an author that’s no longer around to decide whether the professor’s interpretations are even correct. Michael doesn’t enjoy being graded on somebody else’s view of the written word. 

When Michael walks into the lecture hall, he wants to head to the back of the class, far enough away that the professor won’t notice him, and won’t question his absence from future classes, but something stops him. Sitting in the third row with a beautifully empty seat next to him, is probably the hottest guy Michael thinks he’s ever seen in such a natural and easy setting. 

Not one to walk past an open door, Michael approaches the row he’s sitting in, setting his books down and letting them land heavily on the table to attract the attention of the guy with soft brown curls over his forehead and arms too big for a standard t-shirt. 

“Hey,” Michael starts, not continuing until the guy looks up at him. “Mind if I sit here?” The guy shrugs, and Michael thanks him with a relieved grin and sinks into the seat, very obviously checking him out, wanting his intentions to be clear. “My name is Michael.”

“Ashton.”

It’s a short answer, one that’s clipped on the end, and Michael grins despite this Ashton looking irritated at being bothered - especially when the sleeve of Michael’s jacket hits his arms. He jerks away, a quiet scoff escaping the back of his throat. And if Ashton was any less attractive than he is, Michael thinks he might be a bit offended at such a rude and unnecessary reaction. 

But he’s hot, and Michael’s into him. 

“What year are you?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, drifting a bit away so they don't accidentally touch again. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

“I’m a fourth year,” Ashton answers around a sigh. He sits quietly and doesn’t ask about Michael, doesn’t even look at him, let alone say anything else. 

Being ignored doesn’t sit right with Michael. He’s not a cocky person, he doesn’t believe he’s the greatest thing there ever was, but he likes to think he’s at least worth a little bit of energy, some _respect_ at the very least. 

He bites his tongue against yelling that, and says, “Not that you asked, but I’m a second year.” Ashton nods, pulling the sleeves of his button-down shirt up his forearms. Michael bristles at the hardly-there acknowledgement of his words, but his attention is drawn to the moons that are tattooed on Ashton’s arms and takes just one last shot at flirting. “You’ve got some sick ink. Are moons something important to you?” Ashton sighs, and Michael can tell immediately that he’s failing at making something happen between the two of them. It sits bitterly in his stomach, the incoming rejection, but he refuses to give up, to be ignored.

“Listen, Michael.” Ashton finally turns to face Michael, and for a moment his eyes widen before they’re narrowing. Michael lets himself get briefly distracted in the almost pastel quality of the green they hold. “Can you skip the small talk and just get to the point?”

“Point?” Michael grins, but he can feel the heat filling his face. As confident as he always tries to be, he can’t help the embarrassment that comes from being shut out so quickly. “I don’t have any other point than getting to know someone as cute as - ”

“Alright,” Ashton cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “You clearly don’t care about the class or the material or being here for any _real_ purposes, so I’m going to need you to leave me alone.” There’s a bite to his words, a severity that makes Michael’s lean back even further, feeling personalized in this anger. “I don’t have time to talk to assholes who are just flying by in school when _I_ actually care about the subject.”

Maybe it’s something about his tone, or the fury in his pursed lips, or just the fact that time and time again Michael gets judged based on basically nothing, assuming he’s a slack-off, only here to doze off in class and waste the money his parents worked their entire lives to save up rather than get the education he wants, like he’s _actually_ here for. Whatever it is, whatever makes Michael feel like he just got kicked as it digs into his stomach, it makes something sour sit on the tip of his taste buds, a scorching fire down his throat.

It’s the first day of the term, and Michael’s not trying to start a fight, but Ashton’s looking at him disdainfully, and Michael doesn’t understand what the fuck he did wrong other than try and make conversation. “You don’t get to decide that I don’t care just because of…” he trails off, not even sure what made Ashton decide to ruin his day. “What, how I look?” 

Ashton raises his eyebrows, gesturing with his pencil to Michael, circling the air between them. “How you're dressed, how you talk, how you act,” he lists, and Michael wonders how, in the past minute and a half, Ashton could have _truly_ gotten a reading on Michael as a person to be judging him so harshly with such blind confidence. “You’re hitting on me, and we haven’t even gotten our syllabuses yet.”

“We haven’t gotten them because the lecture hasn’t started,” Michael laughs. It holds next to no humor, and he isn’t smiling, but Ashton doesn’t seem like he’d think Michael was enjoying this, either. “I apologize for not giving all of my attention to an empty blackboard.” Ashton narrows his eyes, sitting up straighter, opening his mouth to say something, but Michael keeps talking. “Though I guess it must be interesting to look at when you have a bland personality and a stick up your ass.”

The shock paints itself beautifully across Ashton’s sharp features, his lips parting just slightly as his eyes widen, a soft pink dusting along his cheekbones. It’s an expression Michael wants to draw - the surprise mixed with a bit of fury and unease, something that’s so effortless on Ashton. 

“I don’t have _anything_ up my ass.”

“Well maybe you should,” Michael bites, shrugging as though his heart isn’t racing at this exchange, heated and anxious and letting this get this far when all he’d wanted to do was talk to an attractive guy. “At least then you’d be easier to talk to.”

Shaking his head, Ashton looks down at the battered copy of _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ sitting on his desk. “Go fuck yourself, asshole,” he mutters. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

“I’ll fucking - ”

“Good morning, everybody.” At the interruption of their lecture, the professor making herself known at the front, Michael finds himself holding in a litany of curses and insults, not wanting to prove himself as the ignorant student Ashton sees him as. “I hope your first week of lectures is going smoothly. Raise of hands; how many of you are familiar with the works of Charlotte Perkins Gilman?” 

Ashton’s hand shoots up eagerly, and Michael snorts, not bothering to lessen the severity of the sound. Of _course_ Ashton’s already familiar with their first study - he probably gets off at night reading Lewis Carroll. 

✩✭✩

Starting his second year in university by changing his major might not be the smartest decision Calum’s ever made, but Marine Biology was just weighing him down. He didn’t choose the path for himself, which is why his first year may have been the most stressful of his life, but he didn’t have the courage to tell his parents that dolphins, quite frankly, piss him off. 

He’s an animal lover, he _is_ , but something about the smug sound of their laughs and the effortless smooth quality to them - Calum isn’t a fan of the aquatic mammal. 

Alright, so dolphins aren’t the only reason Calum’s changing his major - though he’d be lying if he denied their sway in his choice. Music Composition is one of the few things in life that makes him feel truly at peace, that really makes him understand who he is. He’s proud of the things he’s written, and he wants to pursue a career with it - even if he _is_ still questioning the transfer over, wondering if he’s made a grave error. 

The first lecture on his new path is Classical Composition, and Calum doesn't think he's felt this level of excitement for his education since his first day of primary school. He chooses his seat in the lecture hall blindly, just pleased to be in a course he'll actually get something out of. When he does lean back to observe his surroundings, his entire body is rendered motionless at the sight before him. 

Saying he's a boy would be disrespectful to the absolute vision Calum's sitting next to. Curly blonde hair and soft, yet defined, cheekbones with a gentle, ethereal quality to him that makes Calum want to feed him grapes and wave a hand fan on his warm body when the sun gets to be too much for his delicate skin. 

Most likely sensing Calum's doe-eyed expression staring at the side of his face in awe, the cause of Calum's sudden thirst turns and meets Calum's eyes with his own oceanic blue ones. The shock of being seen by someone so perfect has Calum choking out a quick and cracked "Hi!" 

"Hi," he gets in return, a soft laugh accompanying the dimple popping into his cheek as he smiles. Calum can feel every nerve ending in his body on edge. 

"I’m Calum. I’m…" His tongue is heavy in his mouth, every word a syrup-coated obstacle to get through and he begins to wonder when his dreams became so life-like and fairytale-esque because _surely_ someone this beautiful would never exist in the same world Calum's been trudging through for the past twenty years. "You are?"

"Luke," he answers, and Calum _loves_ that name. He feels like it really suits him as a person - a beautiful, wonderful, enchanting person. "You don’t look familiar. Are you a first year?"

Shaking his head, Calum rushes to say, "No, second!" Luke nods calmly, as if Calum isn't making a bumbling fool of himself at the stake of Luke's attention. "I changed my major to Music Composition, and I’m… here I am."

"Me too." At Luke's smile, Calum grins as well, only getting bigger when Luke's pale skin starts to redden as he shakes his head. "Not about the… the switching majors, but I’m a second year too, and I’m… Well, I’m here too."

It's absolutely precious, how sweet he is, and Calum just wants to pinch his cheeks and make sure he always knows that he's the most beautiful thing Calum's ever laid his eyes on, and that there's not a single wonder in the world that will strike a match to Calum's sensibilities the way that Luke did, just by locking eyes with him for the first time in this lecture hall. Sure, Calum falls in love fast, and maybe he falls too deep, but he dares anybody in the world to look at this second year named Luke and not want to devote their life to making him happy. 

Even now, just smiling at each other with nothing to say, Calum feels completely content. 

"So what’s the course like?" He asks, just to prompt some more words to drip from Luke's tongue like honeysuckle. "The major?" He then realizes that he doesn’t know if this is what Luke’s studying or if he’s just here for an elective. backtracking, he rambles, "Is this your major? Music? What do you want to do in life?"

Luke giggles at the way Calum's tongue ties together in his rush. "I’m studying Music Composition. And the course is fun," he shrugs, and Calum has to take a moment to admire how effortlessly enticing he makes everything look. "Easy if you’re into it."

"I am! I’m very into this… _it_ ." Calum thinks he should feel like an idiot, but all he can do is smile and think about what it’d be like to poke Luke’s nose and kiss the indent in his cheek. He wants to bring him daisies and tell him he’s pretty, and maybe these thoughts are a bit intense for somebody he's only just met, but if love at first sight exists, then this _has_ to be it. "Do you want to do something sometime? Like go, for ice cream or to a concert?" 

The grin Luke gives is like coming home. Calum's breath leaves him entirely, his body lighting up to the staccato beat of, "I’d love to." But then Luke shakes his head, and the top layer of Calum's heart distresses, the happiness and thrill tearing away one thread at a time. "Oh, wait… I don’t… I’m sorry, but I don’t date. I’m so sorry." 

"Oh." Calum's not sure what to say, confused and heartbroken but still enchanted even as Luke pouts down at the beige floor below them. "That’s - well, that’s okay I guess. Can I still sit here?" 

"I’d be sad if you didn’t."

And while the honesty in his kindness makes Calum smile, he's left confused, sad, and a little turned on. 

✭✩✭

Just like always, Michael's incredibly late - only this time it's for a party that he definitely doesn't want to go to. He'd forgo his stop in, knowing his presence really wouldn't be missed, but Calum's waiting for him and blowing the night off would be a dick move, even Michael's aware of that. 

" _Dude_."

"What?" Michael plays off his fashionably late arrival like it's no big deal, waving off Calum's indignance. "I’m here. I showed up."

"Like two hours late," Calum bites. Michael feels guilty, but it’s well and truly _not_ is fault. He passed out after his lecture on Graphic Design and didn’t wake up until about 10 minutes ago. The fact that he’s here now, this quickly after his nap, speaks volumes about his commitment to Calum and their friendship. He says as much to Calum who just rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you’re forgiven." 

"I didn’t apologize," Michael says, but he’s grinning. 

Sometimes Michael can be a dick, a little inconsiderate of others, but he never does it with intent, and Calum gets that. It's why they work so well together as friends - Calum's alright with the occasional asshole move from Michael, and Michael cuddles Calum more than any human being should be okay with. 

It's all about balance. 

"So how is it being out of student housing?" Calum asks, and Michael puffs his cheeks up, blowing the air out slowly. 

"Expensive," he answers with a pained face. Calum frowns, and Michael waves him off, not letting him actually worry. "Not much more than staying in dorms, but now I have my own place and no curfew."

"And no roommate." 

It's said with a teasing tone, but Michael feels the words differently. Last year, he and Calum were roommates. It's where they met and became best friends, living out of each other's pockets and being open books when it came to everything. At the end of last term, Calum became a room advisor to take some of the balance away from his tuition, leaving Michael without a roommate. He didn't want to take the time to adapt to living with an entirely new person, so he just rented an apartment off campus, only a block away. It's not bad, living on his own, he just wishes living on his own wasn't so quiet sometimes. 

"Yeah…" Michael shrugs, hoping he doesn't look too hopeless with it. "There’s a lot of space I have nothing to do with."

Truthfully, it's not a big deal at all, something Michael hardly puts any consideration into. It's only a sore spot when Calum mentions it, and Calum knows that, frowning at Michael's somber face. "You could always come stay in my single with me," he offers. "I have snacks and the only vacuum on my floor."

"How are you still single with dirty talk so sweet?" Michael asks, his eyebrows raising suggestively. He's not expecting Calum's returning pout. 

"Because everybody I love turns me down."

Michael can't hold in his laughter. It’s very dramatic and seemingly _like_ Calum to say, but it's also nonsensical because the last time they talked - this morning - everything was smooth in the love department, with Calum excited for his first-day-of-term prospects. "Is this ‘everybody’ someone in particular?" 

Calum whines, his cheeks puffing out as his eyes form the certain puppy dog quality that makes you just want to hold him in your arms until he giggles. "I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as him."

"I’m standing right here."

"He’s _breathtaking_ ," Calum speaks right over Michael's joke, completely ignorant to anything but his own thoughts of whoever turned him down. "Literally. I felt like I couldn’t even breathe with him right there. He’s perfect in every conceivable way." 

While it's nice to see his best friend so passionate about something, it's a bit of a let down that it's over a _person._ Calum always does this - shoots so high and falls in love so quickly, only to realize nobody is the person you first perceive them as. "I think you might be putting him on a pedestal, Cal. That’s not a good thing when you don’t know him, don’t know his flaws."

"What flaws?" He's staring off into the distance now, dark brown eyes practically glowing in the reflection of the shitty kitchen lights. "Did you not hear me? He’s _perfect_. I burn, I pine, I perish." 

"Of course you do."

Of the two of them, Michael's definitely the real romantic, the one to dig deep and make grand gestures, but very rarely is there somebody that he actually wants to pull out all the stops for. Calum falls in love all the time, always seeing the best in the people, and he’s quite romantic himself, but sometimes his investment is his downfall, always too blinded by a pretty smile to see anything deeper. He never goes after people that are as pure with their affection as he is, and Michael hates seeing him hurt. 

But he isn’t a bad friend, and he knows Calum can’t just turn himself off of his own feelings, so Michael has to ride the wave with him every time. "Why don’t you ask him out?"

"I did." Despite his frown, Michael doubts anybody could turn down Calum Hood without a fucking incredible explanation, so Michael gestures for Calum to continue. "He said he doesn’t date." 

Michael coos, pouting a bit when he takes in the confusion on Calum’s face, the complete lack of realization. “That’s usually what someone says when they aren’t interested.” 

“But he was!” Calum’s insistence comes quickly, as if he was anticipating the pity of Michael’s response. “I can’t explain it, but there was a connection. He was into me, and he wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t.” 

“And why couldn’t he?”

It’s a simple question, but Calum doesn’t answer straight away, taking a moment to glare. “I don’t _know_.” And Michael laughs. “Shut up! I’m not even here to talk about him. I’m here to mainline tequila.”

At the idea of the toxic drink, Michael cringes. “Have fun with that. I’m gonna grab a wine cooler.”

✩✭✩

Halfway through jotting down a few lyrics that’ve been sitting at the back of Calum’s mind for the past few hours in his moleskin, Luke sits down, legs shaking as he grins manically. “Are you ready for the meat of the lectures now?” 

“The what?” Calum asks, looking up from his work with a giggle, unable to help it at the phrasing. 

“The _meat_ ,” Luke repeats. “We start the lesson plan today.” He looks excited as he places his books under his desk, only leaving a spiral notebook and a pink pen on his tabletop. Calum hopes the ink is the same color as the outside of the pen - that’d be precious. “I bought a new notebook for this.”

The unbridled anticipation etched deeply into every movement Luke makes has Calum professing his love internally. “Do you know what our first module is yet?” he asks instead of admitting that he’s already too far gone for this near stranger. “I didn’t look at the syllabus.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Luke nods as he pulls the stapled sheets of paper from the folder under his desk, looking at the labeled week. “It’s, uh, instrumental narrative.” After reading it off of the sheet, he looks up at Calum, blue eyes shining and gentle smile resting so naturally. A curly strand of his hair drapes across his forehead, and he pushes it behind his ear with a small laugh. 

“Wow!” And while Calum loves his new major and is thrilled that the subject matter is interesting to him, Luke… Luke’s so _pretty_ . Calum’s happy he’s made his way into this academic avenue for his own piece of mind, but Luke… “ _Wow…_ ”

Luke grins, completely oblivious to just how captivating he is. He looks down for a moment, and when he looks back up, his gaze rests where Calum’s paused writing in his moleskin, the words he’s had stuck in his head all day completely forgotten about in the presence of an angel. 

“Are you writing something?” Luke asks.

For a moment, Calum doesn’t realize what he’s talking about, but when Luke’s eyes flicker back down to the journal, he remembers what he was working on and blushes. “It’s just something I started writing.”

“Can I read it?”

Typically, Calum likes to keep his work to himself. It’s not that he has some superstition or private tendencies - he’s just really new to openly writing his music, and he’s terrified that after these years of creating music in isolation, he’s actually bad at it. But Luke’s big eyes are so wholesome and wonderful and _honest_ , and Calum finds himself nodding, not caring about how confidential his prose is when Luke’s smile is blinding - all he can do is grin back. 

Reaching across the minimal space between their desks, Luke grabs the moleskin from underneath Calum’s wrist. He reads what’s written down, Calum watching his face as he takes in the two stanzas Calum managed to complete before getting too distracted. 

“I like it,” he says when he’s finished.

“Yeah?” Calum can’t help but grimace, nervous that Luke’s lying. 

“Can I…” he trails off, gesturing down at the page, and Calum nods. “I think your rhyme scheme could be a little more fluid if you continued each sentence into the next line.”

Tilting his head, Calum reads back his own work, but he doesn’t think he understands what Luke’s saying. “What do you mean?” 

“Here, so - ” Luke reaches for the pen in Calum’s hand, his fingers dancing along Calum’s knuckles, and instead of handing it over, Calum giggles, pulling his hand into himself as he blushes, completely broken down by one simple touch from Luke. “Sorry, I’ll…” He grabs for his own pen and starts making a few marks on the sheet. “If you carried these two words into what should be the next line - ” 

“ _Oh_ .” Calum starts to understand what Luke’s saying as he draws arrows. Calum also notices that Luke’s pen does indeed have pink ink, and it’s really fucking cute, just as precious as he thought it’d be. “That is better, yeah. Thank you.” Luke shakes his head bashfully, putting the journal back on Calum’s desk, his hair falling in front of his face as he does. Calum pushes the strand behind his ear, and _fuck_ he’s perfect. “Go out with me!”

Luke laughs, shaking his head again and undoing the stray hair. “I really can’t, Calum. I want to, but - ”

“ _Why_?” Calum demands to know, and Luke pauses, frowning at the question. 

“Because you’re really cute, and you’re nice and funny - ”

Cutting him off with a raise of his hand, Calum shakes his head. “Not why do you want to, but why can’t you?”

“I… My roommate is my best friend.” There’s no other explanation after, leaving Calum baffled, filling in the blanks himself, different ideas running through his mind as he wonders what the hell Luke’s roommate has to do with him running away with Calum. 

“And you’re in love with him?” He asks, his heart only kind of breaking in his chest. Luke’s eyes widen, and he’s denying it before he even opens his mouth to get the words out. 

“No, no no no. Not that,” he insists. “I met him last year in my Introduction to Calculus course, and while I helped him understand the subject matter, he helped me kind of open up and figure myself out. I wasn’t exactly the most comfortable in my skin back then.” Calum can’t picture that - Luke’s perfect, and he looks so good being confident just how flawless he is. “We decided to get an apartment together during the second term - he did most of the footwork for finding a space, keeping in mind how close to campus we need to be but also close to my work. He helped me find my place in university, made it so I wasn’t struggling as much.”

It’s a sweet story, two friends finding their way, much like Michael and Calum did last year, but Calum doesn’t know what any of this has to do with him. “Is he in love with you? Is that why can’t you date me - because you’re protecting his feelings?”

Instead of answering, Luke continues, “I went on a date at the end of last year, right as we were moving in, and Ashton was really torn up about something, I could tell. It took a few weeks, but I finally got the whole story out about how he doesn’t date anymore, how he needs all of his attention on school, and I realized that he had done _so much_ for me, that I couldn’t let him do this alone.” Calum frowns, feeling lost on why Luke took it upon himself to shadow the rules. “I’ve stopped dating in solidarity, so that he feels less alone. Turning down nice things is bound to take an impact, and I need to be there for him, to know how he’s feeling.”

It’s a nice reason, but it sounds like all of this is the roommate’s problem. Luke shouldn’t be saddled with this baggage just because his roommate wants to do well in school. Calum doesn’t want to judge, and maybe he’s being selfish in his crush, not looking at the picture from a far enough angle, but he wants to date Luke, and it seems like Luke wants to date him - why should this roommate be stopping them? 

“But don’t you ever worry about depriving yourself of experiences?” he asks. Luke raises an eyebrow, and Calum expands, “Like nice, handsome guys that just want to take you out on a picnic and show you how beautiful you are?” 

Red climbs up Luke’s fair skin. He bites his lip and hides behind pieces of hair he can’t seem to keep behind his ear. “You make it really hard to say no, you know that?” 

“Have you ever considered saying yes?”

“I am right now,” Luke tells him honestly, making Calum’s heart soar. “I just… Calum, I’m - ”

“It’s alright.” Calum doesn’t want to make this a whole ordeal, doesn’t want to keep pushing after Luke's explained himself. As much as he likes Luke, he’s not going to be the asshole that makes him change himself, his thoughts, and his decisions just because Calum maybe wants to spend the rest of his life holding Luke's hand. His reasoning may not make sense to Calum, but it doesn’t have to - because it’s not _for_ him. “As long as you’re in my life in some capacity, I’m happy to have you.” Luke smiles, the dimple forming in his cheek, and Calum groans. “Even if I am thinking about kissing you.”

Luke bites his lip, admitting, “I’m thinking about kissing you too.”

And just kill Calum dead because if Luke gets any sweeter Calum may just die anyway. 

✭✩✭

After his Sculpting the Human Body lecture, Michael meets Calum in the courtyard for lunch. He’s on time, which is great, and he expects a party to be thrown in his honor about it, but instead, he’s given nothing. 

In fact, Calum doesn't even have Michael's food waiting for him like he usually does, meaning Michael has to buy his _own_ hot dog, which is completely rude, in Michael's opinion. He goes to tell Calum as much, taking a seat across from him on the picnic table, but the words don't fall from his lips, they can't when he sees how heavily Calum's moping. He's staring pathetically at his french fries, dragging one of them through some ketchup with his bottom lip pouting out. 

For a moment Michael considers how awful he'd be for slipping away and pretending he's late, showing up just as Calum has to leave for his lecture. He drops that thought when Calum sighs dramatically, and Michael's forced to ask, "What happened now?"

“I’ve gone and fallen in love with an unattainable man.”

“Is he taken?” Michael asks when Calum leans his cheek onto his hand, not showing any sign of further explaining himself. “You’re always so terrible at picking up signals, Cal.” 

“Of course he isn’t taken! He should be,” Calum mumbles, “by me,” his pouty lips and chubby cheeks overly emphasized with it. “But he doesn’t date.” 

The innocence Calum holds, completely thick for this guy, to not realize that he’s probably just using any excuse he can to turn Calum down is almost funny - _almost_ , because Michael only laughs a little bit. “Calum, you yourself have used that line a thousand times in the past year.” 

“It’s not a line with him!”

He looks so protective of this guy and the situation, and Michael hates seeing him down, but things don’t look good, and Michael hates it when Calum gets too invested. “You can’t actually be one-hundred percent certain about it. As beautiful as this guy supposedly is, he probably gets asked on twenty dates a week.”

“Michael, you weren’t there,” Calum argues, his hands flying out in exasperation. “He _really_ wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t. His roommate doesn’t date, so he’s sworn off dating for solidarity.”

Knowing he’s pushing too far, Michael teases, “That’s his story?” Calum fumes, projecting his frustration with every sign he can just short of actual steam coming out his ears, and Michael realizes it’s time for him to step back. 

“He would _never_ do that to me, Michael. He’s too good - ”

Not long after, Michael tunes him out, wanting to be able to nod in understanding, but as he’s getting lectured, there’s a cold chill down his back when Ashton walks past their table, a tall, attractive guy next to him. They’re both laughing and suddenly all of the joy Michael’s been feeling is sucked from his body, leaving him bitter and empty. Maybe this sidekick of his is someone he’s dating, maybe _that’s_ why he turned Michael down so harshly. The idea leaves a sour taste in his mouth, that Ashton gets to be happy, laughing with tall guys and being mean to Michael when all he wanted to do is take him out once or twice or ten times. 

Noticing his glower, Calum groans. “Are you even listening? What are looking - ” he turns, following the line of sight, and gasps. “Michael, that’s _him_. That’s Luke!”

For a moment, Michael’s about to correct him, tell him it’s actually _Ashton_ , and that maybe he isn’t seeing him correctly, but then he realizes that the tall blonde making Ashton smile is Luke. It sets a lightness in his chest, when he remembers what Calum said Luke’s excuse was for not going out for Calum. “Do you think that guy’s his roommate?” 

“I don’t know,” Calum shrugs. He’s still blatantly staring across the courtyard, not an ounce of shame in doing so. “I don’t know what he looks like. Luke said his name, but I can’t remember - ”

“Was it Ashton?”

“Ashton!” Calum snaps, facing Michael with a grin as he does before turning back to face the duo. “That’s the roommate then… probably, I think.” He stares even harder, tilting his head. “He’s _hot_ .” Without meaning to, Michael _hmphs_ in the back of his throat. Ashton might be hot, but he’s also nothing, barely anything. He hadn’t even crossed Michael’s radar, really. “Not as hot as Luke though. Sunlight just loves him, he’s _glowing_.”

For the first time since his glaring began, Michael takes a good look at this _Luke_ that’s managed to capture Calum’s attention so heavily. He sets his books down on the picnic table, tripping over his own feet attempting to sit on the bench. It’s clear that this guy is beautiful, but he’s also a little too giggly, a little too… mindless. 

It’s not like Michael has anything against him - he doesn’t know anything about him other than what he’s heard from Calum, but it seems almost obvious that he’s turning Calum down because he’s uninterested, but he’s found a way to do so while still allowing Calum to maintain hope in it someday working out. It’s not a bad idea, Michael considers, to keep his options open, and it’d be clever if it wasn’t so malicious and self-centered. 

“Is he always so… vapid?” He asks, wanting more than anything for Calum to realize he’s being played on his own terms without Michael having to spell it out for him.

With a sigh, Calum shakes his head. “How can you say that? He’s totally…”

“Conceited?”

Whipping his head back to Michael, betrayal in his eye, insulted on Luke’s behalf, he asks, “What are you talking about? There’s more to him than you think. I mean, look…” he turns back and sighs yet again when they see Luke putting a strand of his hair behind his ear. “Look at the way he smiles. And look at his eyes, man. He’s totally pure. I mean, you’re missing what’s _there_.”

Michael bites his lips against saying that what’s there is a boy too pretty for his own good, taking advantage of Calum, who’s perfectly wonderful. But maybe that’s too negative, maybe that’s too dark of a headspace to go to. He doesn’t know Luke, doesn’t know his motivation behind anything. He can speculate all he wants but if Calum likes him, Michael won’t be the asshole to tell him to move on. 

“Well…” he starts, holding back on projecting his own bitterness. “Until he’s ready for you, At least you’ll have something to think about in the shower.”

Calum nods, throwing a french fry into his mouth, face serious as though Michael isn’t alluding to him getting himself off to the thought of Luke. “He’s good content.”

Across the courtyard, Luke’s laugh echoes, a loud, booming sound that pulls everyone’s attention to him. He nearly chokes on his own delight, and Ashton giggles just as hard next to him. Michael glares at them, hating that Ashton can still look so carefree when he’s as horrible as he is. It should be _him_ holding this resentment inside, not Michael. 

✩✭✩

In the midst of his music theory homework, Calum’s ready to throw in the towel. It’s not that the subject matter is difficult - though there are some problems that have him floundering - it’s just that he’s used to having Michael around. Ever since Calum moved into his own dorm, he’s had trouble doing his work, needing another body nearby to entertain Calum’s small moments of compulsion, to distract him from letting the work take him away completely. 

As he’s considering packing up and just doing the work before his lectures in the morning, Luke walks over, surprising Calum by taking a seat next to him. “I saw you sitting alone, and I wouldn’t have it,” he says, and Calum lights up. “What are you working on?”

Extending his arm out, he offers Calum a few gummy bears out of the bag he’s eating from, and Calum smiles, eagerly taking a small handful - he’s always a sucker for something sweet. 

“Music Theory,” he says, sighing begrudgingly when he realizes how much of it he has left. “Have you taken it yet?”

Luke nods, chewing through most of the gummy in his mouth before answering, “Last term. It’s easy stuff, but it doesn’t start to get interesting until week six.”

“What’s week six?”

“You’ll just have to see,” he teases, and Calum ducks his head to hide how big his returning grin is. 

It's just so natural between them. Luke's fun and sweet and wonderful, Calum's not trying to get ahead of himself, but they're going to get married one day. "What are you working on then?" Calums gestures to the hand Luke's not using to hold his candy. "Other than the gummy bears, I mean." 

"American Lit." Luke shows off the cover of the book he's holding, the cover of it plain and doing nothing to inspire an interest in Calum. He grimaces. "Have you taken it?" 

"Nope. And I won’t," he answers. Luke laughs, but opens the pages anyway. 

For as full of life and laughter as the two of them are, they work together well, keeping mostly quiet as they focus on their individual work, occasionally stopping to ask each for help in understanding an aspect of their respective assignments that they struggle with. It's fun, easy to be near each other and feed off of the energy the other supplies. 

Luke looks up suddenly, deep in thought with something, and before Calum can ask, he hesitantly asks, "I know you can be overwhelmed. You can be underwhelmed. But can you ever just be whelmed?"

"I think you can in Europe," Calum answers, and despite the fact that it was a joke, Luke nods, humming, and turns his attention to his book again. It's so silly, a little airheaded of Luke, and Calum can't help the draw he feels. He keeps staring at the wrinkle between Luke's eyebrows until Luke notices, blushing at the focused attention before it gets to be too much. 

"What is it?"

"Go out with me," Calum demands, hoping that the third time's the charm. Luke grins, looking down at his book. "I mean it, Luke. I know you’re not dating, and I know it’s for your roommate, but I’m begging you - just one last time. I really, really like you, and I know you like me too." 

With flaming cheeks that give him away, Luke teases, "You don’t know that."

"I _do_ know!" Despite the energy in his tone, Calum keeps his volume low. "You like me, but you won’t let yourself have me, even though I’m throwing myself at you." He’d physically throw himself over the table if they weren’t in the library right now, if he's being honest with himself. 

"Calum - "

"Let me do _something_ ," he insists. It's like Luke's just out of reach, delicately hanging just away from the tips of Calum's fingers. "You deserve the entire world, but all I’m asking to give you is a date. We can go for a bike ride, or we could bake cookies." 

" _Calum_ \- " 

His mind is racing with a thousand date ideas, places and scenarios he wants to see Luke in, completely at ease, belonging to Calum as much as Calum already belongs to Luke. "I’ll take you to the park, and we can swing. I’ll rent a boat for you, if you really want it. I will do _anything_." He knows he sounds desperate, but Luke’s the most important thing in the world to him, and he needs a chance - just one - so Luke can see how good they are together, how this life without dating he's living is only postponing the inevitable happy ending they're on their way to. 

Luke rolls his eyes at the dramatics, grinning as he says, "Sure. Just get Ashton to go out with somebody, and I'm all yours." 

Though it was phrased like a joke, Calum takes it as what he wants it to be - a loophole into Luke's life. If all it takes to make his life prettier and happier and brighter, Calum will do it. 

"Okay," he agrees.

"Excuse me?"

"If that's what it takes for you to go out with me, then I'll do it." In his head, Calum's running through a few hundred plans, thinking about what it'll take to not only have someone ask Ashton out, but to have Ashton agree to it as well. He doesn't have much money, but he'll pay top dollar if he has to. He can pull this off, it'll just take work - work that Calum is more than willing to put in. 

Luke's scoff pulls Calum out of his thoughts. "You're forgetting that besides being completely against any form of romantic attachments, Ashton's kind of a prick." Calum frowns, not sure he's ever heard Luke use harsh language about his roommate. He knows this is going to be a hard task, but… 

"Of course it isn't going to be easy," Calum says. He's grinning, hasn't been able to stop since Luke put the offer on the table. "But it's worth it. I'd move mountains just to feed you strawberries." Luke rolls his eyes, but he's biting his lip against a smile as red climbs up his skin. 

Everything he does is so enthralling, and Calum thinks he might be in love with him a lot. 

✭✩✭

Not for the first time, Michael finds himself bored to tears in his 19th Century Literature lesson, unable to pay attention to the lecture when it's far more interesting to glare at the back of Ashton's head. He's been debating with the professor over the themes of the book they're reading, and while with anybody else, Michael would be laughing at the insistence of his tone, the attention grabbing aspect of his inputs, with Ashton, Michael just wants to throw a pencil at him. He doesn't know why this kid just existing gets under his skin so badly, but every word he says is another pinprick beneath his fingernail.

The entire lecture is wasted on Ashton's unnecessary inputs. And, alright, okay. Maybe Michael can kind of see why he thinks the way he does about the moral of the novel, and why the characters behave so differently from their inward personas. Sure, his words are crafted well and he's always open to hear the differing opinions, but he talks so damn much, Michael just wants to shove a pencil down his throat. 

Or his tongue. 

When the lecture lets out Michael leaves quickly as he can, not wanting to be in the same vicinity as someone as vile as Ashton much longer. He almost runs when he steps out of the building, but is stopped by the sight of Calum sitting on a table in the courtyard, his feet on the bench in front of him, holding a plastic cup filled to the top with something that looks pink and frozen and delicious. His hand is stretched out to Michael like an offering, and face is sweet and unexpecting. Because of that, Michael knows he’s going to be asking for a favor. There’s a solid twenty feet between them, and Michael could easily run for it, but the pink smoothie looks so fucking good, and Michael’s a fool for sweets and bribery. 

He goes over, walking with stomping footsteps, ripping the drink from Calum’s hand. "Tell me what you want." Then he takes a drink and moans because, _fuck,_ it's even better than he expected. 

"Remember when we were in the quad and Luke walked by with his roommate?" Calum asks.

"Yeah, what about it?" 

As Michael sips through his straw, Calum grins something innocent and unassuming, and Michael can already tell that he's going to fucking hate whatever Calum says. "I couldn’t remember his roommate’s name, but _you_ knew it." Michael scrunches his nose, but the straw does nothing to hide it. "Ashton, right?"

"… Right."

"Well Luke stopped dating because _Ashton_ stopped dating, and he refuses to date me until Ashton dates somebody," Calum continues, and Michael doesn’t say anything, just sucks sideways on the straw and waits for Calum to continue. "Today Luke told me that if I can get someone to date Ashton, then I can take him out."

Michael snorts, immediately regretting it when the smoothie he was holding in his throat goes up and he gets a sudden and agonizing brain freeze, cringing as he mocks, "That's a solid plan and all but nobody in their right mind would ever want to take Ashton out." 

"I was thinking _you_ could," Calum tries and - Michael fucking _knew_ he’d hate this. 

"No," he shuts down, shaking his head to show his dedication to not fucking doing that for Calum (and also slightly from the brain freeze, still). "No fucking way." 

Calum's lips part in shock, as though he's actually surprised Michael doesn't want to be pimped out for the sake of his dating life. "What? Why?"

"Because I have standards." And pride. Michael has pride, and his pride was hurt _very much_ a lot that last time he tried to talk to Ashton. He's not going to explain that, though, doesn't want to admit how much Ashton gets to him. 

"It’s just for a date or two." Calum sounds exasperated despite Michael's excuse being perfectly valid. "Ashton’s hot."

"Ashton’s a _shrew_ ," he corrects, voice biting. "I’m not going to… to tame him, or whatever, just so you can convince some twink to go on a mediocre date with you." 

He chews angrily on the tip of his straw as Calum breathes out slowly. Michael can tell he’s offended, but he’s not going to say anything about it, not going to put up a fight when he's asking for a favor. He doesn't want to risk getting told no again. Perhaps Michael’s taking advantage of Calum’s current position, but he very rarely gets to, so he's going to milk this for every inch. 

"Just one or two, very _short_ , very _lame_ dates." Calum's speaking slowly, each word emphasized gently, pointedly. Michael has to force himself not to laugh at how close Calum is to getting on his knees and begging. "I’ll even pay, if you’re _that_ against helping out your best friend."

"My romantic life isn't for _sale_ , Calum. You can't just buy me, that's - "

"No, you're right," Calum says, shaking his head and backtracking his offer. His eyes clench shut and his cheeks sink inward like he's biting on them. "I'm sorry. That was wrong. I just got really excited about Luke, and… that's not an excuse. I'm sorry, Michael."

The genuine guilt on his face leaves Michael torn. He’s insulted that his friend is trying to bribe him even further than just a smoothie, offering _actual_ money for dating somebody, but he’s even more filled with guilt. It’s just _one_ date, with an attractive guy, and despite Michael's blind hatred, he can distance his feelings from the moment.

And if Michael could just accept the apology and move on, his life could return to normal. However, Calum's pouting and his eyes are wet, and Michael's always been weak for Calum's puppy dog face. 

“I'll do it,” he agrees, like he was probably always going to, and Calum looks up excitedly. “But I'm not doing it for money. I'm doing it because I care about you.”

Calum starts excitedly jumping up and down, and Michael has to hold in an exhausted sigh, already regretting everything. “Oh my god, I care about you too!” His grin is nearly taking over his entire face. “And I care about Luke! And I get to take him out!” 

***

In all honesty, Michael completely forgets about his promise to Calum until two days later when he’s at the cafe cart in the courtyard to grab an iced coffee before his seven am lecture, and he sees a familiar shape in the distance, getting closer with each jogged step. The moment he recognizes it as Ashton, he rolls his eyes, head already full of mocking comments, thoughts of how of _course_ Ashton goes for jogs before class - it’s probably to energize his mind and awaken his body or something. 

What a fucking tool. 

He has nine cruel remarks on the tip of his tongue, but he holds them back when he remembers Calum’s sad, pretty face as he asked Michael for just _one_ favor. Standing here, feeling the anger building in his body just at the sight of someone exercising, he’s confused as to why he ever agreed to it in the first place. It’s not going to be simple like Calum thought, not when the entire time, Michael’s holding back the urge to scream, or throw up, or like… cry. 

Biting his tongue against yelling and swallowing the urge to hide and stick his foot out to trip Ashton as he passes by, Michael stands his ground in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing Ashton to stop with an annoyed, pinched expression. “Uh… excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” Michael waves him off, feeling a bit like a whore for all he’s having to pretend he doesn’t absolutely hate this attempt at emotional involvement. “How are you?”

Rolling his eyes, Ashton drops his position, realizing Michael isn’t going to get out of his way. “Sweating like a pig, actually. And yourself?” 

Michael can feel the same coiling embarrassment in his stomach from the first time they talked, only now it’s a few hundred times worse, knowing that he only looks like an idiot for trying again. He’s going to get through this, for Calum, but the shame gets worse as he’s forced to realize that no matter how strong his distaste is, standing in front of Ashton - even as he’s sweating like a pig, in his own words - he’s confronted with the fact that he’s fucking hot, and he wants nothing to do with Michael. 

“Now there's a way to get a guy's attention, huh?” Michael tries, his words failing him more than they ever have. 

“My mission in life.” It’s sarcastic, and he crosses his arms, standing tall, despite still being a bit smaller than Michael. “But obviously I've struck your fancy. So, you see, it worked. The world makes sense again.” He starts stretching his arm, looking like he’s forgotten Michael’s existence already, words trailing off until he’s not saying a word. 

It leaves Michael in front of him, biting his lip as he tries to think of _anything_ to do to get out of this ditch he’s currently being buried in. “So how’s Friday?”

“Absolutely, uh huh,” Ashton agrees snidely, rolling his eyes. “Friday sounds like a perfect night for you to fall off the face of the Earth and forget me, just like you’ve probably already forgotten my name.”

“It’s Ashton, and you’re a fourth year.”

“Nine more months until I graduate and never have to see you again, screwboy.” Without another word, Ashton takes off running, his shoulder slamming not-so-gently into Michael’s. It was a good, final line, and Michael likes to think he’d find it funny if it wasn’t all aimed at him.

He’s hurting his pride for this, and he has no idea why. 

✩✭✩

"I’ve got some grading to do on your interpretations from last week, so I’ll let you all out a bit early. Have a good weekend." 

As the rest of the students in Calum's Classical Composition lecture filter out of the hall, Calum taking his time to stand, Luke turns to Calum, a teasing grin on his soft lips. Calum would very much enjoy kissing him. 

"How’s the search for Ashton’s future spouse going?" He asks. He's very obviously being sarcastic with it, thinking that Calum's eager acceptance of the challenge was just a rush of words said in the heat of the moment as opposed to a sincere promise that he'd pull through on. 

Maybe it would've been a joke. Maybe Calum would've laughed it all off if Michael had said no. If there wasn't a chance of it actually working, Calum would have pretended this was all just a fun game between them. But since Michael said yes, Calum and Luke are basically halfway in love already 

"Pretty well, actually," Calum shrugs, trying not to smirk at how perfectly everything's working out. "I don’t know if Michael’s talked to him yet, but he’s going to."

As Calum's talking, Luke's nose is scrunched, but his face opens, shock taking over where confusion once was. "Michael?"

"My best friend," Calum clarifies. He leans back, resting the top of his thighs against the edge of his desk. "He was my roommate last year, and he’s asking Ashton out. Actually, I think he may have already done it."

"Are you…" Luke's eyes are shining, even in the dim fluorescents of the hall. "Is he cute? Do you think Ashton will say yes?"

"He’s cute," Calum answers. But then he actually thinks about it, and that's not really right. No, it's not wrong to say Michael's cute, but it doesn't help paint the picture very well. " _Pretty_ , actually. I know I call everybody pretty, but Michael’s just… He’s pretty." 

Luke nods, adjusting the books in his arms. "But is he clever? Ashton doesn’t like people that are dull."

"He has some bite to him. I wouldn’t call him dull."

"Do you think it worked?” Luke’s voice is rushed, his words coming out all together as a renewed energy fills him. It looks achingly similar to how Calum felt when Luke first told him of the loophole - excited and determined. “Do you think… Are we going out on a date?" 

Calum’s nodding before Luke even looks him in the eye. “Yes, definitely. It _has_ to.” Whether Michael and Ashton end up dating or not, _this_ has to show Luke how serious Calum is about it, this has to be the grand gesture that finally lets him say yes. “I mean, We’re so close, we can just go right now. Let’s run away.” Luke giggles, which always makes Calum laugh, but it’s forced this time because this isn’t a joke. He’ll run away with Luke right fucking now. 

“Where’s Michael now?” Luke wonders. He picks his books up, cradling them to his chest as he stands up straight. “Can we talk to him? Figure out what’s happening?” Calum nods and leads the way out of the classroom and towards the man making everything happen. 

It’s Wednesday, and Michael only has an evening lecture today, so Calum takes his best guess at where he’ll be, knocking on his apartment door a giggly thirteen minutes later. He opens the door, eyebrow furrowed in confusion until he notices Luke and Calum smiling a little too kindly at him. He sighs, admitting, “He hates me. Sorry, dudes.”

Calum’s bottom lip drops open, saddened at the words, but more surprised at how quickly everything slipped through his grasp - and he has _big_ hands, so nothing falls out easily. 

Sensing the negativity his words were received with, Michael moves to shut the door, but Luke places his foot in front of the frame, stopping it from latching. 

“That’s because you probably outright hit on him,” Luke says, pushing on the slab of the door, cracking it open. Calum notices that Luke’s almost more insistent about this than Calum - because Luke wants to date him. And maybe, probably, also because he wants his friend to be happy, but more importantly… He wants to date Calum. “You need to be slow about it, make him interested in you before making a move.”

Michael rolls his eyes, stepping back from the door and letting it fully open. “You're really going to make me put this work in for someone who doesn't want to date?”

“He’s my best friend,” Luke starts, and Calum thinks, as far as first meetings go, this one is _really_ weird. Michael’s face is completely blank as he stands slouch, arms always just a moment away from crossing, and Luke’s laying his reasoning on the table as though this isn’t a complete stranger he’s trying to get to date his best friend. “And he has a lot of fun with me, but he kind of shuts everybody else out. I don’t know if he’s looking for love, but it’d be nice for him to know what it’s like to have somebody else’s attention. I want him to be happy, and if you’re willing to try, I’m not going to let you take the easy way out.” 

“So it’s all about Ashton then?” Michael asks, his eyes flickinging over to Calum twice, his lips pursed as he interrogates Luke. “Nothing else?”

In his head, all Calum can think about is how all of this is actually for _him_ , so he can take Luke out and they can properly fall in love. He doesn’t yell that out, though - despite his body practically vibrating with the need to - because he wants to hear Luke’s answer. Calum’s never doubted how pure and true he is, but if there’s even a bit of him that’s hesitant about Calum, he wants to know now, before he’s invested too much. 

“It’s about Ashton, yes,” Luke agrees, nodding. The words he says sound more thought out now than they ever have, and Calum briefly wonders for a moment if Luke might be smart. “That’s why I’m okay with you going after him, but…” He glances with a grin, and Calum returns it, his cheeks feel warm in the softness to his gaze. “I want to go on a date with your friend.”

“I told you!” Calum shouts, sticking his finger out immaturely at Michael, who just rolls his eyes as Calum jumps up and down a few times. “I told him you liked me, and that it wasn’t a line when you said you didn’t date.”

Luke frowns, the crease between his eyebrows getting deeper. “Of course it wasn’t a line.” 

“And I _knew_ it wasn’t.” Calum meets Luke’s smile with an even bigger one. “You like me.” He wants nothing more than to be able to lean forwards and kiss him, but the moment’s ruined by Michael’s groan. 

“Okay, this is cute and all,” Michael interrupts sarcastically, his tone dry and lips turned down. “And I’d love to help, but you’re forgetting a very crucial detail.” Calum and Luke look at each other, both equally confused, before facing Michael together. “Ashton can’t stand me.”

It’s at the tip of Calum’s tongue to ask Michael just what he did to make Ashton hate him, but he decides better against it, leaving Luke to do all the talking - apparently, he’s not that bad at it. 

“Ashton doesn’t _trust_ you,” Luke says. His face shifts, looking less playful, less soft, when he isn’t talking to Calum. “That’s the difference. He thinks you just want to fuck him and that you have nothing in common.” When Luke swears, Calum can feel his cheeks getting warmer. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, but it sounds so different when Luke says it than it’s ever sounded before. 

“So should I start arguing with our Literature professor and going for jogs at seven in the morning?” Michael snorts, his eyes rolling back. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“You know _two_ things about him, and you’re letting that affect how you go about this.”

Calum can see Michael’s stubborn nature sticking him in his place, can see him absolutely, resolutely, refusing to give it a second try. Luke’s not used to him, doesn’t understand just how truly difficult a person that Michael can be when he doesn’t want to do something, so he steps in. “Maybe, um,” he starts, his voice louder at the beginning to stop whatever insult Michael was going to yell at Luke. “Is there a schedule he sticks to? Maybe Michael could ‘accidentally’ run into him off campus. Make it seem like they have something in common.”

More than anything, Calum just needs this to work. Luke’s the only person on Earth that Calum’s ever going to be this into, he sure of it. He doesn’t think he could ever go back to having crushes on normal people when God’s greatest creation is next to him, wanting to date him too. 

“That’s perfect,” Luke whispers. He’s lost in his head for a moment before he lights up. “Every Monday around noon, after his morning lectures, he goes to the used bookstore on Fifth. If you show up there, maybe talk about Shakespeare or Tolstoy - he’ll fall in love.”

It’s as good of a lead as any, something to push Michael in the right direction. If he turns this down, this golden gift shoved into his hand, then it wasn’t meant to be, and Calum will die alone, never to love or be loved again, with no best friend because Michael clearly doesn’t care about him or his wellbeing. But if he agrees to it, Calum can start planning for his future as Mr. Calum… Whatever Luke’s last name is. 

Maybe they’ll hyphenate. 

With a sigh, Michael reluctantly agrees, “I’ll try, but no promises.” 

Calum’s thinking carnations for their wedding - red for his bouquet, and pink for Luke’s. 

✭✩✭

As idiotic as Michael likes to behave sometimes, he's not actually dumb enough to walk straight into the bookstore and start up a comversation like it's completely normal that he's in Ashton's schedule. 

Instead, he goes to the coffee shop next door fifteen minutes before Ashton's set to arrive. He settles himself next to the large window with his untouched drink and keeps his eyes focused down the sidewalk that leads towards campus - the one Ashton should be walking down shortly. He wants to make it look completely coincidental, like Michael's not going to pathetically desperate measures to get turned down again. 

Two minutes before the hour, he spots Ashton's determined pace as he walks the path. Michael grabs his coffee from the table against the window and leaves the shop, keeping his head focused across the street at the bookstore, completely avoiding where Ashton's just a few steps behind him, trailing him at a similar pace. 

When Ashton recognizes Michael, his scoff echoes off the brick building they’re approaching. “Stalking me now, I see.”

With furrowed brows and an overall confused expression painted on his face, Michael turns around, pretending he’s shocked, like this whole thing wasn’t carefully crafted and executed with intent. “Stalking you?” He stops his path, making Ashton stop with him, not wanting to make a scene in the small shop. “That’s a bit pigheaded of you, don’t you think?”

“On what grounds?”

“I’m out for coffee and a bit of shopping,” Michael explains, not technically lying, He does have coffee, and he will be shopping. “I’m… You’re behind _me_. Wouldn’t you be the one stalking?” Ashton flushes, looking guilty for something he’s not even doing. Michael would feel bad, but then the corner of Ashton’s mouth opens up in what looks like a snarl, and he remembers just how much he doesn’t care. 

“I come here _every_ Monday," Ashton points out, but Michael just rolls his eyes, not wanting to give himself away. "And _you’re_ the one constantly asking me out."

"A mistake I won’t make again, your majesty. I can take no for an answer." 

Completely ignoring Michael's interruption Ashton continues, "And yet here you are, out and about - "

"And enjoying a nice day off campus," Michael cuts him off. He realizes that getting into a heated fight on the sidewalk with somebody he's trying to go out with is a bit counterproductive, but Ashton just brings it out in him. "Am I doing something illegal or what? Why are you acting like you’re not the one following me?" 

"Listen here - " 

Whatever Ashton was going to say is cut off when someone comes jogging past him, moving too close and making Ashton trip over his feet. He stumbles to Michael, his hands catching himself on Michael's chest, feeling his body down unintentionally. "A bit direct, aren’t we?" Michael can't help but smirk as Ashton rips his hands away. 

"That _wasn’t_ on purpose."

When Ashton glares, Michael can't help but grin. Sure, it's a shot to the ego every time Ashton turns him down, but call him a glutton for punishment - he loves Ashton's bite. "C'mon and go out with me sometime. I promise you'll have a good time." 

"I thought you took no for an answer."

"That was before you groped me in public," he says. Ashton rolls his eyes, nose turned up in disgust. "Just admit that if you don't like _me_ , you at least like how persistent I am."

The corner of Ashton's eye twitches. It looks like he wants to yell back, to further the scene they're making, but when he lets out a slow, exaggerated breath, Michael knows their time talking is coming to an end, and that he isn't going to be getting a date out of today's attempt. For some reason, he doesn't feel as upset as he thinks he should've before. 

"You've figured me out," Ashton sighs. "How did you do it?" 

"I could see your attraction to me through your act." 

His eyes go blank. "Am I that transparent?" He deadpans, "I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby."

Despite being shut down, unsurprisingly, Michael grins. Like always, his pride feels a bit shattered at the constant rejection, but Ashton's funny and he's quick with his responses. Michael can't hate that."Let me take you out," he insists. 

"Are you completely inept? How many times are you going to ask? Do you not understand what no means?"

Michael shrugs. "I just think you're interesting. I don't want to give up in case just _once_ you say yes." 

With an exhausted sigh, Ashton guarantees, "That's not going to happen," and Michael grin. 

"Then I guess you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

Red climbs up Ashton's neck, and it gives Michael a sense of accomplishment, that even though it wasn't technically a successful outing, he still made Ashton's turn that pretty shade of red. He still thinks Ashton's uptight and that he's unnecessarily rude at times, but he also happens to be cute and funny and a spitfire that gets on Michael's last nerve. Somehow, it doesn't seem like a bad thing. 

With a huff, Ashton storms into the bookstore, and Michael follows suit, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He keeps his distance in the store, and feels Ashton's eyes on him almost the entire time, but he keeps his focus away from him. 

For as much as Calum and Luke played up the idea that he'd have to pretend he likes to read, they were wrong. He actually _really_ appreciates good literature, so he finds himself getting a bit lost in the aisles, pulling more stories off the shelves than he'd originally intended. He buys three books, and notices how surprised Ashton looks, staring at him through the storefront window when Michael makes his way back to his apartment. 

✩✭✩

Even though he's supposed to be working on his Classical Composition homework, Calum hasn't even looked at his book in the past fifteen minutes. He's in Luke's room, the two of them studying together, stretched across the soft, peach comforter, as he stares at himself in the mirror hanging on the back of Luke's closed bedroom door. He thinks he looks good on Luke's bed, wrapped up in his sheets, but maybe, he considers, he'd look even better wrapped up in Luke. 

"Are you even studying over there?" Luke asks, his voice coated in amusement. 

"No." With one last smile at his reflection, Calum turns to Luke biting his lips as he watches Calum. "Don’t you want to come lie with me?' 

Ducking his head, Luke admits, "Yeah, but then I won’t get my work done." Even with his hair covering most of his face, Calum can see the blush staining his skin, and he wants to do everything in his power to keep it there forever. 

"Is that such a bad thing?" It's meant to be a tease, something to have Luke giggling as he bites the inside of his cheek, but when Luke looks back up, Calum can see that he's actually considering it, and excitement builds in his stomach. 

Despite Michael giving it another try with Ashton, Luke and him still aren’t dating, still aren’t kissing, still don’t even _hold hands_ except for when they accidentally touch and spend the next minute giggling. It’s sweet and soft, and Calum doesn’t want to rush this… 

But he really just wants to be close to Luke. 

Before Luke can make up his mind and come over to the bed, maybe actually taking a step forward towards what will soon be the best relationship the world's ever seen, the door swings open harshly, and Calum sees Ashton, face red, eyes flickering. "Luke, I need - _oh_." He jumps when he sees Calum on the bed, looking over to where Luke's on the floor. He looks between them for a moment. "Am I interrupting?" 

"Ashton, this is Calum, my friend from Comp," Luke introduces them. Calum waves his hand out, frowning when he realizes that with the door open, he can't see himself, that he can't remind himself of how perfect he looks in Luke's bed. "Calum, this is Ashton, my best friend." 

Ashton returns Calum's wave, a put-on grin awkwardly stretching across his lips. "Nice to meet you Calum."

"You too." Knowing that it's Monday, and Michael promised to try again, Calum wants to find out what happened and if his night is going to end with him cuddled into Luke's arms. "Why do you look so jumpy?" Ashton immediately frowns, and Calum wants to hit himself for being so rude, but it’s also one-thirty on Monday afternoon, and if Michael hasn't made Ashton fall in love, he has a right to know. He needs to know if he and Luke can take this evening to a hot air balloon with wine and little chocolates shaped like bunnies. 

"I…" Ashton trails off, blinking at Calum's boldness. "Not that it’s any of your business, but I think I’m being stalked." Calum’s eyes bulge, and he looks to see Luke looking nervous. Maybe Michael wasn’t the right choice… "No, no I’m not." He shakes his head with a sigh. "I just… There’s this guy that I keep running into, and he keeps asking me out even though I turn him down every time, and - " 

"Well why do you turn him down?" Calum asks, knowing he sounds too nosey. "Is he ugly?" Luke glares at him, a harsh look that's telling him to shut it, but Calum needs to know if keeping Michael on it is worth it. If he thinks Michael ’s ugly, which Calum would have a few choice words to say if that was the case, then it's game over. 

" _No_ ," Ashton answers, perhaps a bit too quickly, and Calum smirks. "God, no. He’s… Conventionally, he’s attractive." 

"Is he attractive to you?" 

Ashton waves Calum's question off. "I have a type, and - " He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, leaving Calum to wonder what exactly that ‘type’ is and if Michael even remotely fits the bill. "That doesn’t even matter. I keep saying no, and he keeps asking."

Across the floor, sitting on the ground with his book open in his lap, Luke bites his bottom lip, guilt dancing across his face. For a moment, it looks like he's about to confess, to reverse all the hard work they've done, but then he says, "If he’s making you uncomfortable, you should tell him," and Calum breathes out in relief. 

The option gives Ashton an out, a chance to say that he wants nothing to do with Michael, and he can tell it to Michael too. But it also works as a way to let Luke and Calum gauge if Michael's advances are doing anything to open him up emotionally. 

"He’s not…" Ashton sighs, and Calum thinks they may be headed towards a victory, or at least, as close to a victory as they can get with Ashton still turning Michael down. “I’m not exactly uncomfortable. I’m just not used to it, and it’s making me confused." 

Calum wants to keep pushing, to keep working him, but he can tell that it’s not a good idea right now, that they've done all that they can for today. "This kid Alex, in our Classical Composition class is throwing a party Saturday night," Calum says, completely turning away from any talk of Michael. "Do you want to come?"

"No," Ashton shakes his head, looking confused at the change of subject. "I’m not sure - " 

"That’s a good idea, actually," Luke speaks over his excuse, turning to him with eager eyes. "It’ll let off some steam, and you can forget your troubles. Just dancing and drinking, and then you won’t be so tense about someone thinking you’re worth talking to." 

Ashton rolls his eyes, but he looks a lot less worried than when he first charged into the room. "I’ll pass on the party, but thanks for the invite." Luke grins, and Calum kind of hopes they can convince him to come because Michael’s _definitely_ going, and that’d be good for them to dance, and maybe hook up, and probably fall in love, and then he and Luke can kiss and there’ll be fireworks. "I’m gonna take a shower." 

Calum and Luke wave him goodbye as he shuts the door behind him, leaving Calum to stare into Luke's mirror again. A glowy smile slips onto his face as he's reminded just how natural he is in Luke's bed. 

"Want to snoop in Ashton’s room?" Luke asks out of nowhere, and Calum has no idea what for or what’s interesting about Ashton, but it feels very ‘little brother’ to do, and Calum’s always interested in some middle school hijinx, especially if it means spending more time with Luke. 

"Absolutely." 

Luke beams at the easy agreement, and Calum knows he’d go along with anything in the world just to have Luke look that pleased for the rest of his life. 

As soon as the shower kicks on, the sound of a squeaky handle followed by the downpour of water, Calum and Luke are rushing out of the bedroom and across the hall. Immediately upon walking in, Calum’s taken aback by the large black-and-white portrait of Heath Ledger hanging above Ashton’s desk. 

“Is he a fan?” Calum asks, walking up to it. He notices a picture frame on the upper-shelf of the desk, holding a picture of James Dean, and he lets his finger brush the dust-covered wood of it. “Dean and Ledger?”

“He likes pretty boys,” Luke explains. He’s already digging in Ashton’s dresser, and Calum imagines he’s been waiting quite a while to get this opportunity - he clearly isn’t wasting it. “That’s the type he was talking about earlier; pretty boys.”

“So Michael - ”

The chuckle that cuts his question off feels like it should be a bad sign. But then Luke’s insisting, “ _Definitely_ pretty. I can’t say for sure, but I’m almost positive he’s exactly what Ashton likes.”

Calum’s head bobs with his nod. That’s the type of information Calum’s been looking for all day - that Michael isn’t wasting his time by going after somebody that wouldn’t be interested in him. It should give him enough relief to set him to ease and allow him to continue prying into Ashton’s personal life, but the room is quiet, and Calum’s never been able to keep his thoughts in his head, so he blurts, “You’re pretty too, you know.” Luke looks up suddenly at the outburst, his cheeks pinking as he shakes his head as if Calum made a joke. “ I mean it. You could be a _model_.” When Luke giggles, it feels like a denial, but it lights Calum up inside, making his stomach twist pleasantly. “Seriously! Go on, pose for me.”

“I’m not - “

“ _Please_ ,” Calum begs when Luke tries to say no. With a resigned sigh, Luke looks off into the distance, a soft attempt at a ‘ _Blue Steel_ ’ look, and he’s so pretty it’s ridiculous. Calum holds all his thoughts in and nods decisively. “Nice. You look very… pensive.”

Luke frowns, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “I was going for thoughtful.” He shrugs, shoulders slumping with it and goes back to searching, leaving Calum lost. He thinks he wants to laugh at Luke’s misunderstanding, but he’s almost 98% certain that Luke was being serious and doesn’t know that the two words mean exactly the same thing. He’s cut off from his thoughts by Luke cheering, “Oh sweet,” as he digs out a slip of paper from the inside cover of a book on Ashton’s nightstand. 

Curious, Calum makes his way, looking over Luke’s broad shoulder to see him holding a concert ticket for Club Skunk. According to the date, it’s for this Thursday, and if the ticket reads correctly, and the band is who he thinks they are, things couldn’t be working out any more perfectly. “Michael loves them.”

“This is so perfect,” Luke grins, and Calum can’t help but agree. It’s like they’re setting up soulmates together. “If we buy him a ticket, he’ll go, and then they can fall in love.” 

_And then we can, too_ , Calum doesn’t say. 

✭✩✭

Had Michael known one of his favorite local bands would be playing at some sketchy club just off campus, he would have bought himself tickets a long time ago. Having Luke and Calum show up at his door, excitedly holding up a ticket _they’d_ bought for him, insisting that he show up and work his magic Ashton - well, Michael definitely couldn’t have said no. 

Not that he’d want to. 

It seems that with every new encounter he has with Ashton, Michael stumbles on something they share an interest in, a common link between them that probably would’ve been a far sweeter discovery had it happened on Michael’s terms - not with Luke and Calum meddling - if only Ashton had accepted his offer to go out, and not stomped on his outstretched hand three separate times. 

As far as reconnaissance goes, Michael thinks this might be the most at-home he’s felt so far. He’s been at the venue for an hour, and he’s already danced to a few songs, had an interesting talk with some girls about the band’s new musical direction, and nursed a beer or two. Now he’s choosing to hang back at the bar and watch the main dancefloor, but since he’s sat down he’s been unable to take his eyes off of Ashton, completely losing himself in the music. 

There’s the slightest bit of anger in the back of Michael’s mind as he finds himself transfixed. Ashton’s dancing alone in a crowd of people, and he looks fantastic, completely at ease and enjoying being there. It strikes Michael’s core, makes him realize that all the resentment in the world won’t change how attractive and captivating Ashton is. 

The song the band is currently playing slows down, and with it, Ashton does too. He turns around and starts making his way through the crowd - Michael quickly catches on that he’s most likely heading to the bar for a drink. He reacts quickly, stumbling backwards into a stool with the neck of his drink held tightly in his fist. He starts bobbing his head before remembering that there’s no music playing, so he sits back and listens as the lead singer starts talking into the microphone. Every move he makes feels calculated and wrong. He wishes he were here on his own accord and not on a mission, wishes he could be out on the floor enjoying himself. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael catches Ashton doing a double take towards him, and he breathes slowly to keep calm. 

Less than a minute later, Ashton walks over, water bottle in hand, and stands next to Michael, hand on his hip and an agitated grimace on his lips. “Are you seriously going to pretend this was an accident?” he bites. “That you didn’t follow me here?” Michael looks over to him and raises an eyebrow, determinedly staying quiet. Ashton huffs. “If you’re planning on asking me out again, you might as well just get it over with.”

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Michael sighs, facing the stage again. “I don’t understand the fascination you have with turning me down just to beg that I do it again, but I’m genuinely trying to enjoy the show.”

“Right…” Ashton laughs, his arm dropping down and resting on the cap of his water bottle. “Like you’re actually a fan.” Michael narrows his eyes as Ashton casually takes a chug from his bottle. 

“Not that I’d have to be a fan to enjoy the show,” Michael starts, feeling irritated that he feels such a strong need to prove himself to Ashton. “But I’ve been listening to them since before Jimmy left.” Ashton’s eyes widen just slightly, and Michael specifies, “The _first_ time, he left, by the way. Because he quit for a month before they released their first EP.” 

“I know that…” 

“And I’m not questioning that you don’t.” Leaning back against the bar, relaxing his shoulders now that Ashton’s not biting insults. “Now if you’ll let me get back to the show.”

From where he’s standing quietly, Ashton deflates slightly before taking a seat on the stool next to Michael. He doesn’t say anything at first, staying silent as the lead singer tells the punchline to an anecdote that has the crowd laughing. Everyone settles down quickly, and the bassist picks up where the story left off. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says. Michael turns to him, eyebrows crinkled when he sees how close Ashton’s leaning towards him. 

“Sorry?” 

“For assuming you followed me here,” Ashton explains. “For not believing you actually knew the band.” 

Michael shrugs, holding back the tiny flicker of hope in his chest that there’s something other than loathing coming off of Ashton in waves. “It’s not the worst damage my pride has taken from you, so I can’t complain.” Ashton laughs, shaking his head. But staying silent as he glances back out to the dancefloor. “Did you come here alone?”

“Yeah.” Ashton smiles then, but there’s something sad about it, a light that’s missing from his eyes. “Not exactly swimming in friends, you know?” 

“How could that be? You’re so accommodating to new people.”

At the joke, Ashton’s grin looks more genuine, an amusement there he doesn’t often hold for Michael. “I have a right to be skeptical about motives, alright?”

And while Michael’s not the judge of feelings and whether or not anybody can behave the way they do, he still doesn’t think Ashton’s self-isolation from the world is deserved. Sure, being cautious is smart, but Ashton’s shutting himself off from the world for some reason, and it’s not wise. He needs to get out there more, needs to explore the world and recognize that there are people that would love to be in his company, if only for a moment. 

Even if he doesn’t do it for Michael, even if it’s not a date , it’s what he deserves. 

“There’s this party - ”

Ashton laughs at Michael’s suggestion, shaking his head to cut him off, not letting him finish. "Of course. You never give up, do you?” Michael doesn’t say anything just yet, only stares, waiting for an answer. It doesn’t come. Ashton rolls his eyes and starts walking away. 

“Was that a yes?” He yells, attracting the attention of a few people around the bar. 

Over his shoulder, Ashton shouts, “No!” 

“Well, was that a no?” 

For a moment there isn’t a response, and then the band starts playing again, the club filling with loud music. Faintly, in the distance, Michael can hear Ashton’s hollered, “No,” and can’t help but smile. 

Talking to Ashton holds an intrigue to it that always makes Michael forget this is supposed to be a favor, and not someone he’s actively interested in seeing. 

✩✭✩

Despite the absence of Michael in Ashton’s love life, Calum still finds himself spending every moment in Luke’s presence. There’s been no funny business of any kind, not until Ashton finally lets Michael in, but Calum likes playing domestic with Luke.

The party at Alex’s is tonight, and Calum’s helping Luke get ready at his place. They’ve been hogging the bathroom for half an hour, but the door’s open, so if Ashton needs to use it, he can easily kick them out. Calum hopes he doesn’t, though. It’s intimate in here, with Luke sitting on the counter as Calum buttons up the sheer rose shirt he picked out of Luke’s closet. 

With his legs kicking softly against the loose cabinet door he’s on top of, Luke’s been rambling in his saccharine sweet voice for the past ten minutes, and Calum’s been more than beguiled - even if he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. 

“ - never used to take these risks when I was younger, but lately - ” After the last button is up, clasped tightly at Luke’s neck, Calum takes in the sight before he shakes his head. He likes the shirt better unbuttoned. “ - and it’s just become… What are you doing?”

Luke looks down at where Calum’s undoing all of his hard work, exposing the black tank top underneath. Calum follows his eyes before glancing back at Luke with earnest eyes, explaining, “You look sexy with it open.” 

Soft red dusts the curves of Luke’s cheeks as he bites his lip. He doesn’t say anything, only averts his eyes as Calum goes back to slipping the buttons open. 

“So is this…” At the sudden interruption, Calum jumps. He turns to see Ashton leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed as he takes them in. “... A thing? Are you two dating?”

“No, of course not.” Luke rushes, sighing the words out, and Calum keeps his eyes fixed on Luke’s top. “You’re not dating, so I’m not dating. Not dating Calum, we haven’t gone on any date, we’re not - ”

“We aren’t dating,” Calum butts in. He’s a bit sad saying it, but he needs Luke to stop talking because it’s even worse coming from his mouth. He finishes the last button to turn and see Ashton looking at them with his mouth pursed. 

After a moment, he asks, “Aren’t you sick of waiting for me?”

“What?” Luke’s face falls at the depreciative tone. “Ashton, no. I’m not _waiting_ for you.”

“I’m just saying,” Ashton shrugs standing up, pulling away from the door frame, “if you wanted to date, I’m not stopping you.”

As Luke’s frown deepens, Calum guesses that they’re in for an emotional, heartfelt talk. It feels a bit like he’s invading, like this isn’t a conversation he should bear witness to - especially when it’s _about_ him. “Hey,” he says suddenly, speaking before Luke can start a sad argument between them. “We’re going to Alex’s party tonight. I know you turned us down last week, but we could always use a third.” It feels like a win enough when Ashton’s face lightens up. 

“I appreciate it, but - ”

“Come on, Ash,” Luke tries. He slips off the counter, putting his body against Calum’s - neither of them back away. “It’s just a party.”

“And Hell is just a sauna,” Ashton tries, but there’s a severity that he usually holds missing. 

It feels like he’s giving in, like he’s already decided to give in, but Calum keeps trying, not wanting to give him the chance to say no. “And you’re just a student, but you’re holding the social life of an eighty year old man. Come dance to bad music and drink terrible beer.”

When Ashton sighs, confliction dancing in his expression, Calum pulls out his last stop and softens his glare, turning on his puppy-dog eyes, that Michael once claimed could end every war and start them back up at the same time. Nobody’s ever dared to say no to them. 

“… _Fine_ ,” Ashton agrees. Falling victim to Calum’s manipulation. “But I’m leaving early.” 

✭✩✭

Late into the night, long after Alex’s party has kicked off, Michael finally decides to show his face. He didn’t fall asleep this time, but rather, was stuck working on an essay for his Lit class that he’s been struggling with. If he’s being completely honest with himself, it was tough enough to have him almost skipping the party altogether. The only reason he didn’t call it a night and pass out in his living room is because the promise of possibly seeing Ashton was too good to pass up. 

It’s not a new feeling being so enraptured by the presence of somebody else, but having it be somebody he still isn’t sure if he likes or not definitely isn’t familiar. 

Finding Ashton at the party doesn’t take long at all. He’s in the middle of the large den, dancing with Calum and Luke, surrounded by about fifteen other gyrating bodies. Ashton’s laughing as he moves, head thrown back and arms thrown up as he circles his hips in a sloppy motion that’s a lot less sexy than he probably thinks it is. 

Ashton’s captivating like this, looks even better than he did at the concert, more carefree, happier, more _included_. Michael doesn’t want to interrupt, wants to stay hidden and let Ashton enjoy his night, enjoy his people, and not be bothered by any ulterior motives. He’s planning on slipping away, leaving Ashton to his night of innocent debauchery, but Luke catches his eye too quickly and nods him over. 

Crunching his nose up, irritated that it’s him that has to ruin Ashton enjoying his night, Michael makes his way into the crowd. He hesitantly taps Ashton on the back and startles when Ashton’s grin doesn’t slip away, but in fact gets even bigger. There’s a confused confidence in Michael’s tone when he asks, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“ _God_ , yes!” Ashton nods enthusiastically with his answer, shocking Michael with just how easily he’s going along with this. “Want more to drink!” 

But then it makes all the more sense when he realizes that Ashton’s buzzed. His eyes aren’t too glazed, and his movements are certain and balanced, which means he’s not absolutely trashed, but there’s a reason for his ease, and it isn’t his feelings for Michael. He walks off towards the kitchen, and Michael follows close behind, not wanting to lose Ashton when he realizes just who he’s agreed to speak to. 

When Ashton refills his drink, he takes a swig and turns to Michael with a tense grin. “What can I help you with?” He asks. His words are articulated like they usually are, no slurring, but his poor attempt at a smirk shows the alcohol in his veins. “Are you here to ask me out again?” Michael laughs and shakes his head.

“Not when you’re drunk,” he says honestly. Ashton rolls his eyes. “What if you said yes? I’d actually have to take you out.”

“I’m sure you’d hate that.” Ashton swallows another bit of his drink, and then shakes his head with a grimace. “I’m sure _I’d_ hate that.” It doesn’t sound as convincing as his other bitterness in the past has, but it’s still holding something genuine to it. Michael lets the smile slip just slightly from his face, feeling a bit let down by it. He thought they were at least getting well enough along that those kinds of words would sound more teasing than truthful, but… 

“Why don’t you like me?” At the abruptness of Michael’s question, Ashton frowns, shrugging his shoulders. He hides his mouth behind the lip of his cup and doesn’t answer. “I know you don’t want to go out with me, but even this - ” he gestures into the air between them, “ - the talking, being friendly. Can I not do that? Is there something I did?”

Ashton sighs, putting his drink down. He looks up to Michael as he says with a sobering tone, “You think you want me, but you _don’t_.”

It sounds almost angry, but Michael feels none of it is aimed towards him specifically, just towards someone, _something_ , the world. It’s sad, really. That Ashton's shutting himself out because he just assumes people don’t want him. Is that what it is? Because that’s the opposite of what’s happening between them, it’s wrong, and Ashton's far too good to be having those thoughts. 

“How do you know that?” Michael asks sincerely.

“Because you don’t know me.”

And, alright, that’s completely fair, in Ashton’s defense. Michael doesn’t really _know_ Ashton. He knows that he’s cute and infuriating, and completely rude for the emptiness of it, but that’s it. Luke called him out on it a week ago, and he hasn’t really learned any new information since then aside from one band he likes and that he likes bookstores… or really, _one_ specific bookstore. 

But even so, Ashton's not giving him the chance to know him.

“Let me get to know you then,” Michael decides, not letting himself be turned away, even as Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“Aren’t you tired?” He sounds sad still, as if he’s waiting for Michael to throw all his chips away and leave Ashton alone, tipsy, in the middle of a party he tried to ask him to. “I’m sure there are better things you could be occupying your time with, so why are you doing this?”

“Doing what? Talking to you? Do I have to have an incentive? I just want to get to know you.”

“Yeah, but _why_?”

Michael has a lot he could say. The fact that he’s doing this for Calum and Luke comes to mind, but that’s just an _excuse_ , one that he feels doesn’t really explain much of his intentions anymore. Coming to the party to see Ashton didn’t feel like it was for anyone but him tonight. He could say that he’s certain they have matching personalities and tastes and would get along really well, or he could say that he hasn’t felt as excited interacting with other ppl as he does with Ashton. He could say that since the very moment he walked into 19th Century Literature, Ashton’s all he could think about, even if he’s an infuriating, snarky, beautiful, wonderful, funny _asshole_. 

He’s lost too much of his pride with Ashton at this point to give himself away that much, so he swallows it all down. “Because if I wasn’t here getting shut down by you every thirty seconds, I might have to talk to guys who _actually_ like me.”

“Like you could find any,” Ashton says, swallowing his words down with another drink from his cup. 

It has Michael simpering. The snapped response was uncalled for, but the bite to it is something Michael finds unendingly attractive. This is what he meant. This is why he keeps coming back for more. 

“See that, there? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

It feels like an accomplishment when Ashton smiles even just slightly. It’s something even more when he sighs, “I suppose letting you ask me a few questions wouldn’t hurt.”

There are a million questions that Michael wants to ask, from Ashton’s favorite song to his least favorite author. This is the first chance he’s really being given at learning about Ashton without having Luke throw hints at him or accidentally having something slip from Ashton’s lip as he’s chastising Michael for existing in the same area as him. Every word in the English language is flicking through his head, trying to form a question that feels proper for learning who Ashton _is_ , but nothing like that comes out. 

“Why do you keep turning me down?”

Ashton laughs, but it doesn’t sound as curt as earlier. “Starting off with the tough ones, huh?” He teases, and Michael shrugs. He wants to know a lot about Ashton, but this is something he _needs_ to know. “I don’t date.”

Of course.

It’s not that it isn’t a legitimate answer. Were it the first day of classes, and Ashton gave him that excuse, he’d roll his eyes at the vague and untelling answer, but he would’ve happily moved past it and forgotten about him entirely. Knowing a bit more, having seen more of Ashton, Michael knows that there’s more there, that there’s an actual reason. 

But for once is his nosey life, Michael doesn’t want to know if Ashton doesn’t want him to. 

“Why are you so persistent on asking me out?” Ashton asks, and Michael raises an eyebrow. 

“So you’re asking questions then?”

“I just did, didn’t I?”

As Ashton puts his cup down on the counter, leaving it abandoned amongst the open bottles of liquor, Michael can feel his lips stretching into a pleased grin. There’s something about the way Ashton just lives life by his own rules that makes Michael want to hang off his every move. “I’ve never had anybody turning me down excite me so much. I’m having fun getting to know you, one pick up line at a time.”

“You’re very bad at it,” Ashon says behind a laugh, and Michael waves the insult off. 

“One day I’ll do something that gets through to you,” Michael promises. Ashton shakes his head, and his hand makes an aborted movement to reach for his cup, but he must think better on it, and doesn’t grab it from the counter. “Do you like grand gestures?”

“I like making them,” he answers listlessly. Michael hums, wanting an actual answer. Michael himself is a romantic, he likes sweeping declarations and yelling to the world about his love, but only where it’s appreciated. “ I like romantic gestures, but only when there’s a subtlety there.” Michael nods along, but he doesn’t quite get it, and Ashton can tell. “I like things that are less generic and more custom made, but I don’t want a spectacle of it.”

It makes a little more sense, but in Michael’s head, all he can think of is his large gestures made smaller - like a portrait painted on the world’s smallest easel. “So if someone bought you one-hundred roses but gave you a petal from each one - ”

“What would that accomplish?” Ashton demands, cutting off Michael’s question, making him giggle at the bewilderment in his eyes. “What would I do with the petals?”

“What would you do with real roses?” Michael counters, and Ashton scoffs. 

“I don’t even like roses,” he corrects. “I like peonies.”

“Of _course_ you do.”

Ashton laughs at the indignation, and Michael can’t help but echo the sound. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re at a party, voices swallowed by the crowd of people surrounding them, or maybe it’s because for the first time, _Michael’s_ the one to put such a beautiful smile on Ashton’s face, but in all his time of chasing Ashton, this is the first moment it feels like getting somewhere.

“Alright,” Ashton says, “if you could direct any music video - ”

They continue their game well into the night, a never-ending inquisition being passed between the two. Whoever calls the game Twenty Questions must have impeccable control, Michael decides, besides there’s not a force on Earth that could make him stop asking Ashton why he prefers yellow to gold or where he was when he first heard his favorite song. 

The party winds down slowly but steadily, and soon they’re being ushered from the house by an exhausted and hammered Alex, and Michael offers to walk Ashton home since it’s on the way to his own place, and they’re still playing the game. Despite the olive branch that’s been extended to him in the game, and the honest fun they’ve been having together, it’s still a shock when Ashton agrees. 

Opening up to each other is nice, feels pure in a way Michael doesn’t think he’s justified to feel with how dirty his intentions are, but he finds himself feeling it anyway. He’s spent the last few minutes going into detail about his high school trauma of being pantsed in the hallway and being nicknamed ‘hairy butt’ for his remaining two years in school, and when Ashton’s screaming laughter bounces off the building they’re walking past, Michael can’t do anything but grin. 

“If I call you that from now on, you can’t blame me,” Ashton teases through his gasping breaths as he comes down from his laughter. Michael’s not completely certain that Ashton wouldn’t do that, but he doesn’t feel upset by the prospect of it. “Alright, alright. Your question.” 

It’s been three hours or so that they’ve been talking, and the questions lately have revealed more to each other than Michael thinks he’s ever shared with anybody before. Neither of them are feeling the alcohol now, Ashton having sobered up in the first hour of the game, drinking only water when their voices became scratchy from use, and Ashton seems much more welcoming to Michael. He takes a step back from colors and stories and asks what he’s been wondering about since the very moment Ashton shut him down.

“Why did you disregard me so quickly that first time in 19th Century Lit?” He keeps his eyes forward, even as Ashton looks up at him with a hum. “Even before I hit on you, I just asked your name and you seemed so irritated already. I never had a chance with you, I know that, but why didn’t I?” Ashton sighs. He takes a barely-there step over, putting the smallest of distance between him and Michael. The space between them feels cold, even in the warmth of the night. 

“In my second year, I almost lost my scholarship and got kicked out of school,” he starts by explaining, and Michael widens his eyes. He’s not sure what he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t complete honesty. “I started seeing this guy, and it was really good for a little bit, but I got lost in the relationship, and I let myself forget about my work. I’m really passionate about literature, and I want to do well in my lectures, but something made me lose focus.” Michael stays silent, doesn’t want to interrupt and offset the progress they’re making. Ashton’s sober now, they both are, so Michael feels extremely lucky to be getting this raw story, real and meant to be heard. “Joey and I broke up after I told him I needed to focus on my work again, and he said a few things about how I was only good for sex.”

With thinned lips, Michael bites back every comment on the tip of his tongue about how untrue this ‘Joey’ was. He wants to tell Ashton how funny and interesting he is, and that if all his ex could focus on was sex, then it was his loss, but it isn’t his place. He can’t prove something to Ashton after only one night, even if he _knows_ it’s the truth. 

“I’m over that now,” Ashton continues, “but it really hurt at the time, and I dove head first into my lectures again. When you hit on me in class, I didn’t appreciate it because I can’t let anything distract me - not when I’m so close to graduating. Not even pretty boys like you.”

Without meaning to, Michael lets a flattered smile slip on his face. He knows that Ashton’s just unloaded a lot of information that needs to be taken into consideration, but he also called Michael pretty. And that’s… that’s fucking special. 

“You’re strong,” Michael says decisively, not letting himself get too lost in the compliment. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Michael agrees. He means it sincerely, but the moment feels like it’s gotten too serious, so he lightens it up. “It must’ve been tough being so attracted to me and still having to turn me down.” Ashton laughs and shoves Micahel’s shoulders. “I mean it though. You have strong morals and you stick to them. I like that about you.”

With a teasing bite to his lip, one that makes Michael’s mind stir a little, Ashton asks, “What else do you like?” Michael chuckles. Ashton’s clearly just looking for compliments, and usually Michael finds that annoying, fishing for something, but he just wants Ashton to know he's incredible. 

“I’ve told you that you’re funny and mean, and I’m very into that,” Michael tells him. 

“But what else?” 

Even with the pushing, Michael still finds himself charmed by Ashton’s neediness for flattery. “I like that you pretend you’re above dating and being wanted, but here you are begging for compliments.” Ashton shrugs, unashamed. “I like that single curl that falls over your forehead.”

Ashton’s hand comes up and pushes the stray hair above his hairline. “I can’t make it - ”

“It’s intentional, don’t even lie to me,” Michael stops him, and Ashton chuckles. “I like your taste in music and the way you danced at the concert before you knew I was watching you.”

“So you _were_ \- ”

“I like _you_ ,” Michael insists. “Plain and simple.”

When Ashton comes to a stop on the sidewalk, Michael thinks he may have said something wrong, but when he turns, he sees a pink-cheeked Ashton switch his hand on the wooden door to an apartment building. “This is me.”

As loathe as he is to say goodnight, Michael feels like he really threw himself out there, and tonight is as close to a win as he could possibly get as far as Ashton goes. Even if Ashton pretends tonight never happened, Michael will be happy, knowing that it did, knowing that he was able to make Ashton light up the way he is now. 

“You know, you're not as vile as I thought you were,” Ashton says, voice soft as he leans in. For a split moment, Michael thinks they’re going to kiss, can feel himself getting excited for it, but he can tell that there’s a hesitation in Ashton’s movements, an uncertainty about it, like he’s taking a risk, like he’s not sure about himself with it, and Michael feels so fucking guilty, like he’s decieving Ashton… 

Because he is. 

As into Ashton as he is, Michael doesn’t want anything to happen between them. Not tonight, and not like this. Michael’s only here because he’s doing a favor for Calum and Luke, not because he’s a nice guy, deserving of Ashton’s affection. 

Ashton looks utterly humiliated when his lips fall on Michael’s cheek. He’s red and stuttering and looks broken. Michael’s heart bleeds, and all he wants to do is wrap Ashton in a hug and apologize for being a shitty person with shitty intent. 

“I _told_ you that you didn’t want me.”

“Ash - ” Ashton slams the door in his face, and Michael kicks the air, pissed at himself, pissed at Calum, and pissed at the world. 

✩✭✩

What looked to be an extremely promising night has since left Calum feeling lost, upset, and sad for a potential relationship that might’ve been ruined. 

It’s been three days since Alex’s party, and despite consistent prying from Luke and Calum over what changed over the course of the night, Ashton maintains that it was a disaster, and that Michael is a prick. It’s not an out of reach explanation, especially given how Michael can be sometimes, but it doesn’t explain much in the way of why they’re both radio silent. Michael isn’t saying anything either, so Calum has _no_ idea what happened between them, and at this point, he doesn’t think he ever will. 

Just as it’s been for the past two weeks of his life, Calum’s day has been spent in Luke’s bed - only this time, Luke’s actually in it with him. They’re cuddling, faces only inches apart, as they talk through everything that’s happened in their plan so far. 

They’re in Luke’s bed, cuddling, as they talk out everything. The timeline is perfectly clear, no gray areas or points of uncertainty until it comes to three nights ago, a night that’s one big, blurry mystery, seemingly never to be figured out, no matter how hard Luke’s eyebrows pinch together, nose scrunching up, as he tries to talk himself out of the maze. 

“ - just don’t understand what could’ve happened,” he’s muttering, blue eyes swimming in bemusement. “When they left, Ashton seemed so _into_ him.”

Calum shrugs. He’s playing with a thread on the bed between their faces so he isn’t tempted to do something stupid like kiss Luke on the tip of his nose. “Maybe Michel said something unforgivable,” he offers. 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but,” he huffs out a breath. It all feels a bit hopeless now that they have nothing to go off of. They don’t know where the problem lies, and it all looks like a big question mark, leaving Calum to wonder if any of this is going to work. “Michael’s got a big mouth, and he says stupid stuff _all_ the time. I wouldn’t put it past him to insult Ashton.” When Luke frowns, Calum’s stomach twists sharply. It feels like he let Luke down, and that’s more upsetting than the hopelessness. The thread he’s twisting pulls free with a rip. “I just don’t get it! Ashton won’t tell you _anything_?”

Shaking his head, Luke sighs pathetically. “He said he always knew Michael was a prick, and that walking home with him was a dumb decision,” Luke repeats for the fifth time since the party, the words coming out like a practiced monologue. “If we didn’t see how sober he was when they left, he probably would’ve blamed the alcohol for walking with him.”

Breathing out, Calum lies back on the pillow, not sure if he’s more bothered by the situation or the new distance between them. “Is this just over? Are we supposed to lose faith and never date?” Luke whines, and Calum’s never related to him more. “I just don’t know if forcing Michael onto Ashton is the right way to go about it - not if Michael isn’t what Ashton wants.”

“But it looked so promising Saturday night,” Luke reminds him. 

Calum sits quietly, looking over to see Luke’s frowning face, and he mirrors the image. He wants to cover Luke’s pretty face in kisses more than anything, but there are boundaries to maintain, and problems to solve before they can. “I think we should ask Michael what happened,” he suggests. “Maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Because at the end of the day, failure isn’t an option. 

✭✩✭

The words on the paper in front of Michael bleed together in a pool of black and white, and Michael’s long since lost any comprehension of what the assignment was even about. The history paper he has due tomorrow is going to result in a poor mark, but he couldn’t care less. His mind’s been flooded with thoughts of Ashton and how hard he fucked up in accepting the stupid favor Calum asked of him… 

He’s just one big idiot, and nothing will ever change that. 

The words on the notebook in his lap have started dancing around in synchrony by the time Calum and Luke barge into his living room without knocking. The sound of the door slamming close reverberates off the walls, and Michael’s head isn’t even completely up before Calum shouts, “What’d you do to Ashton?”

The accusation in his tone is enough to have Michael jumping, but even Luke looks at him like he can’t believe how elevated everything’s become. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael says defensively, his fingers gripping around his pen tensely as he fills with guilt all over again. 

“Oh yeah?” Calum laughs, the sound dry and sarcastic. “Then tell me why - ”

His interrogation is abruptly cut off when Luke puts one hand on Calum’s mouth and the other around his chest, holding him back. “We’ve been lying in bed all day, Calum’s full of unused energy,” he explains, ignoring Calum’s glare, and Michael snorts, looking back at his mess of a paper. “We just want to know what happened between you and Ashton Saturday night. Everything looked good between you, but he’s been kind of… running your name through the mud.”

“Yeah?” Michael asks, not looking up, not wanting even the slightest flinch to give him away. 

“He said you were a prick and that he regrets ever giving you a chance,” Calum says, suddenly free from Luke’s grasp. Michael shrugs. 

“It’s not exactly a defamation of my character, is it?” He asks rhetorically, looking up from his book, but keeping his knees close to his chest. “I _am_ a prick, and he _does_ regret it.”

“Right.” Luke nods, and Michael nods back. He feels so low for thinking he could date Ashton as a favor and not have anybody get hurt. “So what happened?” 

With an exhausted sigh, Michael closes his notebook, throwing it onto the ground in front of him. “He told me a few things, and I realized that what we’re doing is kind of fucked up. If Ashton doesn’t want to date, then why are we forcing this?”

“Because even if it’s just two dates, Luke can date me,” Calum whines. “That’s what this is all about - me and Luke.” Sensing his own self-centered explanation, prompted by Luke clearing his throat, he rolls his eyes, explaining, “And Ashton’s happiness, of course. I haven’t forgotten that part.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Michael retorts dryly. Calum glares, and Micahel mimics it. “I don’t want to do this anymore, I’m sorry.”

When Calum’s jaw drops, Michael averts his eyes, hating to be the one to disappoint his best friend. “ _What_? Come on. Ashton’s bound to let you take him out soon enough. Just apologize for whatever you did and ask him out.”

As much as Michael loves Calum and always wishes the best for him, he’s upset with him, shocked at how selfish he’s being with this. Calum doesn’t seem to realize that Ashton’s a real person with real emotions, and that by continuing this charade, it’s risking every bit of faith Ashton’s finally started to rebuild in his life. Michael doesn’t like the feeling of intentionally playing with another person, especially not one like Ashton. 

“He tried to kiss me on Saturday, and I turned him down,” Michael reveals, the memory an ache in his throat. “He’s open to dating, but I don’t want to do that.” Luke and Calum both still at the information and Michael breathes out slowly. “Can you let this go now?”

For a moment, nobody says anything, and Michael thinks maybe they’ve progressed past it. But then, slow as anything, a smile stretches across Luke’s lips. “…You like him.” 

“I _just_ told you I didn’t want to do this anymore,” Michael groans, his arms flying up with his emphasis while his skin flushes out. His chest tightens with the feeling of being caught, and he hates it. “How does that translate to me liking him?” 

“How does it not?” Luke laughs, face lighting up much more than the intensity that cascaded him only moments before. “You don’t want to do this because you actually care about him as a person. You feel guilty using him. You _like_ him.”

“I don’t,” he insists, but he’s lying. He doesn’t think he’s liked anybody as much as he likes Ashton in a long time, but he can’t do anything about it - not when his intentions will never be what Ashton deserves. 

Calum’s laugh is out of nowhere and unexpected, booming throughout the small apartment. “Oh my god, you _do!”_

“No, I don’t!” Michael huffs, feeling like a child, petulant when confronted with his own emotions.”But it doesn’t matter if I do or not because I can’t go out with him as a fucked up favor to a friend, he deserves better.” It should be a final argument, the end-all, but Calum just rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t do it for me, you fucking martyr. Do it for _you_!”

Usually when Michael’s getting yelled at, he matches the energy, screaming back in kind, but before he can start, Luke steps between him and Calum. “Do it for _Ashton_. He deserves someone that really likes him, and if that’s you…”

At first Michael doesn’t say anything, wanting to be stubborn, wanting to purse his lips and tell them to knock this all off and leave him alone, but he knows he can’t. Because despite how dirty and wrong this may feel, he also can’t deny how he feels. 

“It is.”

***

Michael stays up all night trying to craft the perfect romantic gesture, forgoing his history paper completely, and he thinks he may have come up with his best idea yet, something that’ll appease his need to make a big declaration, while still staying subtle enough to give Ashton the room to turn him down… 

If that’s what he wants. 

At the end of their shared lecture, Michael places the sealed envelope on Ashton’s desk and slips from the hall, leaving Ashton room and time to think, not pressuring him to make a prompt decision - he doesn’t even need to open it if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want there to be any obligations with this - it’s a big fucking choice after years of not dating, and Michael refuses to push even an inch. 

He doesn’t turn around as he makes his way back to his apartment, doesn’t want to tempt himself. All he can do is wait. 

✩✭✩

Just as Calum’s finally getting around to his Music Theory assignment that he’s been putting off for three weeks, Luke comes racing into the library, slamming his books down on the desk Calum’s sitting at, and leaning across the table to place a messy, loud kiss at Calum’s cheek. Despite the noise and the glaring eyes from every end of the room, Calum smiles from ear to ear, and can’t get the pleased look off his face no matter how hard he tries to tamper it down. 

“What’d I do to deserve that?” he wonders aloud, giggling when he notices just how deep Luke’s dimple goes in his own grin. 

“Not you,” Luke tells him, shaking his head as he takes a seat at the table. “ _Michael_.”

When the name sinks in, Calum can feel himself hiccuping a silent laugh. It’s good news, great even, but definitely surprising. When Calum and Luke left him last night, he was sitting on the ground, legs crossed in front of him, contemplative of what Luke had parted with. Calum had _wanted_ he’d make a move, but he didn’t have very high hopes of anything happening - at least, not this quickly. 

“Ashton came home from his lit lecture with a _note_ from Michael,” Luke continues. 

“A note?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Luke continues, “He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but I talked him through it, and he’s going to talk to Michael right very now.” The hair on the back of Calum’s neck stands up, and he feels his heart beating in double time. They’ve never been this close to a date before, but things are looking better than ever. “If everything works out then…” 

Trailing off, Luke blinks a few times. He may think he looks suave, but it almost looks like there’s gunk in his eyes. Calum giggles, full of joy and excitement. They’re _right_ there, this might happen, he and Luke might actually get to _date_. 

He has to distract himself until they get an official go ahead from Ashton, or else Calum might actually pounce in the middle of the library. 

“What was on the note?” he asks. 

Luke shrugs, “He didn’t say.”

And that’s curious. Calum wonders what Michael could’ve written that would have turned Ashton’s feeling around completely. It’s a known fact that Michael’s pretty great at the romance stuff, but Ashton’s remained pretty stubborn about this. 

It must have been something incredible. 

✭✩✭

To distract himself, Michael spends his afternoon alone in the art studio in his signed out room. He’s working on a project for his Innovative Arts lecture, and the work is just tedious enough to keep him from storming across campus and demanding to know what Ashton’s thoughts are on his note. The entire purpose of passing it off at the end of their shared class was to give Ashton space - shaking an answer out of him is counterproductive to its entire purpose. 

He’s across the room from his canvas, water balloons filled with paint sitting next to him, sorted into sections by their various colors. The overall portrait is coming out better than he’d first anticipated - the red he’s chosen splatters more than he’d have liked, but overall the effect of it is incredible. 

Just as he’s about to throw a lilac balloon, the door opens in front of him, and Michael’s confronted with the sight of an unsure Ashton Irwin, cheek sinking inward where he must be biting it. 

After thirty seconds passes with nothing said, Michael ventures a hesitant, “Hi…”

“Hey,” Ashton returns, clearing his throat. “Are you busy?” Michael’s arm is in mid air, but he shakes his head and lowers the hand he was going to use to launch paint onto his canvas. “I just wanted to talk about your note.” He waves the opened piece of paper, and Michael feels an iron weight drop in his stomach. Something about being confronted with the words he copied down doesn’t sit right with him, makes him want to shut the world out and never show his face again. 

“We don’t have to, if - ”

“‘ _My heart is full of you,_ ’” Ashton reads off the note, his eyes flicking up and catching the beginning of the red shame painting Michael’s face. “‘ _None other than you is in my thoughts, yet when I seek to say to you something not for the world, words fail me._ ’ Michael takes a deep breath in, his entire face is flaming - he can feel the heat as it rises up from his chest. He wanted Ashton to read the note himself, not sing them out in Michael’s face. “I know you didn’t write this.”

Michael shakes his head immediately, “No, I didn’t.” He never wanted Ashton to think that he did. Knows that Ashton appreciates the written word, but he’s not very good with them. “Emily Dickinson did. It was… she wrote a love letter to, um, Susan Gilbert?” The end of his words are tilted up like a question, but Michael knows it as fact. He put a lot of research into the note. “They were supposedly best friends, but the letters she wrote showed something more.”

For a moment, Ashton looks at him blank-faced. He’s clearly confused, Michael can read that much, but he doesn’t say anything else about it, only looks back down to the paper. 

“‘ _It is a marvel that those red-rose leaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry_.’” 

“That one’s Oscar Wilde,” Michael tells him honestly, and Ashton nods once, a quick bob of his head. 

“Right…” 

He looks back down, and Michael swallows a dry lump in his throat. He feels terrified as Ashton prepares for the final bit. This one, of all of them, is the worst to hear aloud. It’s the loveliest one, the one that makes Michael's breathing shallow and his palms sweaty. The one that, if Ashton turns him down, will evoke the most heartbreaking pain. 

“‘ _If only I were a clever man,_ ’” he starts, and Michael pinches his eyes shut as tightly as he can. “‘ _I could describe to you my gorgeous bird, how you unite in yourself the beauties of form, plumage, and song! I would tell you that you are the greatest marvel of all ages, and I should only be speaking the simple truth… You are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colors, but the sun himself, that illumines, warms, and revivifies! This is what you are, and I am the lowly man that adores you._ ’”

By then end of it all, Ashton’s voice is trembling, the sound of the paper crinkling in his shaky hands following his speech. Michael can hear how pretentious it all sounds, how much of a reach it is for a declaration, and he feels so incredible stupid. Even so, he can’t find himself regretting it. It’s a gesture, and it’s one that he needed to make, something Ashton _deserves_. 

“What the _fuck_ is that?” Ashton asks when Michael doesn’t say anything, and instead stares resolutely at the cement ground below his feet. 

“Juliette Drouet to Victor Hugo,” he recites through a sigh. He remembers how perfect the words sounded when he’d seen them, and he still feels that way. He just wishes he didn’t have to explain it. “One of the greatest love letters of all time. They all are.” 

“But _why_?”

Maybe it’s the desperation in Ashton’s tone, or maybe it’s just Michael’s own exhaustion at pretending he doesn’t have actual real feelings for an actual, real asshole with pretty hazel eyes and an outlook on life unparalleled by anybody Michael’s ever met, but he’s done skating around the truth. 

“Because you deserve it,” he says plainly. “Because you’re funny, and nice, and _smart_ , and you make me feel like shit a lot of the time, and for some reason, I’m _very_ into that.” Ashton’s glaring at the paper in his hands, his cheeks are red, and he looks like he’s had enough, but Michael keeps going. “I know you might not like me, I know that after the party, when you… when we almost…" He stutters his way through it, not wanting to bring up such a rotten memory, so he dances around it. “That might’ve been a fluke, just a chance you took that you never want to take again, and that’s okay. If you don’t like me, I’ll live, but I can’t live with you not knowing just how fucking _gone_ I am for you.”

Nothing’s said for a bit, Michael breathing heavier than usual in the loud silence of the room. It doesn’t seem like anything’s going to happen, but then, quieter than Michael’s ever heard him, Ashton says, “I _do_ like you.”

“Yeah?” At first, Michael thinks he’s heard him wrong, the confession too good to be true, but then Ashton nods. 

“Yeah,” he repeats. “I just thought that you didn’t like me, that you… that you were just fucking around because it was fun to get told no.”

Michael can’t help but laugh at the thought that Ashton believed he _enjoyed_ his pride being beaten down. “It wasn’t as fun as you think it was,” Michael chuckles. “I really fucking like you.”

Admitting it feels new. The note was an obvious way of announcing it, and Michael knows his feelings were never exactly a _secret_ , especially not with the multiple attempts at asking Ashton out, but saying it in simple words, speaking into the room and letting the words bounce off the solid walls, make everything seem like it’s _real_. There’s no more hiding behind a smirk and some clever words. 

Michael likes Ashton, and Ashton knows. 

“Why didn’t…” Ashton starts, biting his cheek again before repeating, “Why didn’t _you_ kiss _me_ , then?” 

“It was _right_ after you’d just opened up with me.” Michael can feel a shaky undercurrent to his explanation as he remembers the guilt clawing its way up his throat that night when he had to turn Ashton away. “I didn’t want to take advantage of a vulnerable situation.”

“I’m always going to be vulnerable with you, I think.”

And for some reason, _that’s_ what hits Michael, what makes him smile at Ashton’s open face. Ashton likes him, and that’s been said, but knowing that Ashton feels vulnerable with Michael, feels revealed, but doesn’t care… That’s when it all comes together. 

“It just didn’t feel right,” Michael says through his grin. 

“Does it feel right now?” Ashton wonders, leaning in just slightly. Michael laughs, he gets closer, feeling his heart beat faster at the thought that he’s finally going to kiss Ashton, but as he finishes his path, Ashton turns his head so Michael’s lips land on his cheek, an imitation of the other night. “But first…” Michael hums, not put off by the rejection, but rather feeling motivated by the smirk on Ashton’s face. Michael places a soft kiss to his cheek, then another to his jaw. “Tell me something real.”

“Something real?” Michael teases, unsure of what he’s expected to say. “I hate peas.” 

Ashton giggles, a mellifluous sound that bounces around Michael’s head. “No. Something _real_ ,” he repeats, his breathing only slightly more shallow than before. “Something no one else knows.” 

“Okay.” Michael leans forward, his lips falling just above Ashton’s collar. “You're sweet.” His tongue flicks out against the skin. “And sexy. And…” Michael trails his mouth up to Ashton’s earlobe, his lower lip dragging against the skin, until he can suck it into his mouth, “... completely hot for me.” 

Ashton laughs, but it’s clear he’s barely hanging on, breathless in a completely addictive way. “You're amazingly self-assured. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“I tell myself that every day, actually.” Michael finishes his sentence off by leaning in and stealing Ashton’s lips between his own. It’s meant to be something soft and quick, a declaration between them, but things get heated quickly until Michael has to pull himself away with a gasp, turning his head as Ashton chases him. “Wait…”

“What for?”

“Because if we keep going things might go further,” Michael says. 

With a laugh, Ashton’s hand wraps around the back of Michael’s neck, “Isn’t that the idea?” and he pulls him in. 

Michael lets himself be distracted for a few moments before he shakes his head, taking a few steps back. “You’ve been alone for awhile, and I don’t want to rush into this. If you second guess us at all, I don’t want anything that happens to be a mistake, I… I don’t want you to go far enough that you’ll regret it if we…” 

“Michael…” Ashton rolls his eyes, not unkindly, and follows Michael’s steps. “I want you.” Giving Michael enough time to step away, Ashton leans forward and tries, one last time, to kiss Michael. 

Michael moans into it, buries his hands in Ashton's hair and sucking on his pink lips, his tongue. Ashton's eager in his kiss, and Michael feels lost in it, wants more, wants to be closer. "Ash," he breathes, his lips wet and tingling.

"I wanna suck you off," Ashton whispers in a low voice, nipping all along Michael's jaw and throat. Michael's hips jerk up into Ashton's hand automatically.

"Yeah, fuck, I want you so much," he replies, barely coherent to his own ears. He wants Ashton's mouth and skin and hands and anything he can have, he's shivering with it.

Ashton heaves himself forward to give Michael another kiss, and then to turn them and pin Michael against the wall and slink down his body. Lifting Michael's shirt up enough, Ashton starts slowly pulling at the zipper of his jeans, and Michael feels drawn tight, his muscles jumping at every touch. Ashton only presses down harder on his cock with the heel of his hand as he leans forward to bite a kiss into the skin at the bottom of Michael's stomach. He's squirming, can't help it with Ashton's hot breath dancing over his stomach. As he unlatches the button and pulls down the denim, Michael breathes out in relief. 

Finally, Ashton's hovering over Michael's cock, right where he wants him, but it's still not enough because he's just mouthing over the thin fabric of his briefs. He's so hard by now that the head of his cock is peaking out under the waistband, dark and wet and carefully ignored by Ashton. Instead of getting straight into it, he latches his mouth onto Michael's inner thigh and sucks hard, until Michael feels shivery and oversensitive, and then he bites over the sore spot. Michael's hips buck again, uncontrollably, so Ashton clamps his hands on Michael's waist and forces him to stay still.

It's even better, somehow, and absolutely necessary when he starts lapping along Michael's length, still over his pants but so good it doesn't matter right now. When he reaches the head he swirls his tongue around it, moaning a little at the precum he finds, and Michael could stay here and be teased all night and die happy.

That's not the plan for today, though, apparently. Ashton's fingers dip under his waistband and tug until Michael hitches forward and helps him remove them. For a split-second Ashton's just staring at Michael's cock in awe, and then he glances at his face and this, this is the image Michael would like burnt into his brain. Ashton kneeling for him and looking up with his pink cheeks and impeccable jawline and finger-mussed hair. He looks like… he looks like something completely too sappy for Michael to attempt to describe when Ashton's lips are so close to his wet cock. 

Michael must seem desperate enough. The next time Ashton ducks down, he takes Michael almost halfway, and doesn't bother restraining him when Michael squirms again. He wraps his hand around the base of Michael's cock and swallows around him until his lips meet his fingers, until Michael's fully enveloped in hot and wet.

His eyes fall shut, too focused on the sensation and little, sexy noises Ashton's making, that aren't quite choking but something similar, until Ashton pinches his thigh and sucks hard at the same time, like he wants Michael to watch. His eyes fly open and he finds Ashton staring up at him, his cheekbones more prominent than ever and his lips stretched around Michael's thick cock. He's absolutely obscene, and he must fucking love it, shown when he starts moaning again the second he finds Michael's eyes, like he's putting on a show. 

Once he's sure he's got Michael's full attention he starts bobbing his head in earnest, tongue slick against the underside of Michael's cock. He feels ready to faint, helpless not to watch himself disappear in Ashton's mouth. He curses again, louder still when Ashton twists his hand, not really dry after he tongued all over him. Just right.

Ashton's focused and dedicated and lovely, gives Michael no room to regroup between his mouth and his hand, so it's a while before Michael hears it. This rustling noise, not from their feet on the paint tarp, but from – oh, god, from Ashton's hand stuffed down his own pants. Impossible heat rushes all over Michael, from his cock through his belly, and now it's all he can hear, Ashton pumping himself fast while gagging on his dick, and it's so hot he can't even think.

It doesn't even sneak up on him, the coiling feeling in his gut, being so close to the edge. They both knew exactly what Ashton was after. "Fuck, you - Ash, I'm gonna cum - "

Ashton takes his mouth off of him, drawing a long whine, and then blinks up and says simply, "Cum on me then."

Okay, maybe Michael had no fucking idea what Ashton was after. "W-what?" he stumbles over his words, tongue too heavy in his mouth, chest still heaving, Ashton's hand still stroking him (and himself, fuck) firmly.

"If you want me, show me." 

He probably has more to say, in that newly-wrecked voice of his, but he didn't pause his hand for one second and Michael's done, finds himself actually coming on his face without another warning. He's streaking Ashton's mouth and chin and cheeks, and Ashton's eyes flutter shut prettily and his mouth falls open and _God_ , Michael keeps on spurting. This. This is the image - the feeling - he'd like burnt into his brain. Ashton _reasoning_ him into a facial. Ashton's pink lips coated with Michael. Ashton's perfectly content expression.

When he's done shivering he leans back heavily, trying to merge with the wall. Ashton stays where he is, though, blinking at Michael with big innocent eyes like there isn't cum on his face. Michael's cum. His hand drifts up without command, thumb digging into Ashton's cheek and slipping down to his chin. Ashton darts out his tongue to tease at the tip of Michael's finger, catching some cum as he goes, and Michael makes a helpless noise. 

With a teasing grin, Ashton blinks up at Michael. "Are you going to help?" He wonders, the hand down his pants stroking at his length, his eyelashes fluttering with the motion. "Or just watch?" 

Michael's on his knees, hands reaching to knock Ashton's out of the way, before he can even think about it. 

✩✭✩

“Do you ever think about, like, being an animal?” Calum asks.

He and Luke are in the quad eating lunch together, and it’s been mostly silent for the past couple of minutes. There’s always something to be said between them, and Calum doesn’t like not hearing every thought that passes through Luke’s head. It took a few minutes to come up with a question to ask, to spark a conversation, but Calum actually already knows the answer to this, has thought about it before, but he wants to hear what Luke thinks. 

With his burger halfway to his open mouth, Luke pauses. He pulls it back and hums. “Pre-evolution?”

“What?” Calum tilts his head, confused on just how fast Luke’s mind went in the wrong direction. “No. Like…” As he thinks, Luke lifts his burger up and takes a bite, eyes focused on where Calum sits next to him. “If you were to transform into an animal on the full moon, what would you be?” A bit of juice falls down Luke’s chin, and Calum wants to wipe it away and then kiss the pale skin.

Luke hums, thinking about his answer. “Maybe, I’d want to be a tiger,” he decides, and Calum coos. He’s so wrong it’s not even funny. 

“You absolutely would not, but it’s very cute that you think you would be,” Calum teases, relishing in Luke’s blush and the pout on his pink lips. “I think you’d be a field mouse.”

“I’m not small,” Luke argues, but he’s grinning. 

“Not physically, but you always make yourself look smaller.” Even now, as Calum looks next to him, Luke’s hunched over just slightly, shoulders drawn in, his head ducked. “And you’re cute, but in a really special way.” Luke’s red, and Calum sometimes thinks he’d look amazing in glitter, especially right now with his cheeks alight. 

“You’d be a dik-dik.”

At the new announcement, Calum frowns, offended. “I’d, what?”

Luke opens his mouth to explain, but Ashton sits down grinning. Luke turns to him, a new excitement building under his skin, and Calum would be right there with him, but he’s got other thoughts in his head right now. “Hey, how’d it go talking - ”

“No, hold on a minute,” Calum cuts Luke off. He really wants to hear all about Michael and Ashton and how everything’s working out with them, but the much more pressing matter is how rude Luke just was to him after a touching moment. “What do you mean I’d be a dick?” he asks, and Luke chokes on a laugh. 

“What? No,” Luke denies through his laughing. He’s shaking his head, looking at Calum with fond blue eyes that Calum refuses to melt for until he gets clarity. “I said dik-dik. Like a tiny deer. They’re all clumsy and soft and small.”

And … okay, that’s so nice. Calum feels so cute and adored, and ready to move on. He grins, feeling justified, and waves Luke off, honored. “Okay, continue.” Luke returns his smile and faces Ashton. 

“How did everything go with Michael?” Luke asks. After everything they’ve all gone through together, Calum’s ready for a long winded tale, a story of heroes and villains and the one brave asshole who ventured the quest to Ashton’s heart. Unfortunately, none of that ever comes because before Ashton can even answer, a tray is placed down in front of Ashton, and then another one next to it, Michael sliding in a seat, kissing Ashton on the cheek and making his blush. “I guess that’s our answer.”

Though Luke’s voice is deadpan, Calum lets himself get excited. This is _it_ , this is the final confirmation that everything is alright to go ahead between Luke and Calum. He turns to ask Luke out, ready to _finally_ get a yes after the struggle of all of the nos he’s gotten before, but instead, Luke’s holding out a small handful of flowers. Calum laughs, shocked and joyous and almost upset because it feels like his thunder is about to be stolen. 

“Will you go on a _real_ date with me?” 

Instead of answering, too filled with a renewed energy, he just throws himself at Luke - _finally_. Everything is falling into place, and Calum couldn’t be more thrilled. 

✭✩✭

Three weeks in and dating Ashton has been an absolute dream. Michael feels more comfortable with Ashton than he’s ever been in a relationship, and part of him thinks it might not be real… but then the rest of him wraps Ashton up in his arms and can feel how very genuine their relationship is. Well, as genuine as a relationship started on a favor can be. 

Lately, Michael’s been spending all of his time in Ashton and Luke’s shared apartment, even when they’re both out at classes. Right now is no exception. He’s lying back on Ashton’s bed, working on an assignment they have due on Thursday in their shared lecture. Ashton’s at his desk, taking a much more stressed approach, rambling on about how many ideas he has, to reference great authors he wants to reference, but doesn’t know where to begin. 

Michael’s absolutely taken with him. 

“I just…” Ashton sighs, throwing his hands in his hair. “I _know_ I have these incredible writers, and using their prose, it’d - ”

He grunts, cutting himself off, and Michael grins. He’s sure he’s the same way with his art, but seeing it on his boyfriend is precious, absolutely wonderful. It’ll probably get annoying someday, his constant enamorment with every little thing about Ashton, but it’s hard to see that ever happening when even in a stressful state, Michael just wants to _boop_ Ashton’s nose an see him smile. 

“I have books!” Ashton shouts suddenly. “I have…” He stands up from his desk and paces. “Books. Where are my books?” After a moment of thinking about it, he turns and walks into his closet, grunting as he trips over something on the floor. “I have clutter, that’s what I have.”

Michael keeps grinning to himself, knowing he probably looks like an idiot, but everything is absolutely perfect. He doesn’t know how he lived twenty years without Ashton Irwin in his life, truthfully. 

Just as Michael looks back down to his notebook, the bedroom flies open, and Luke comes barging inside, laughing something loud and high. “Ash, you won’t - ” He looks around wildly, joy slipping slightly when he sees it’s only Michael. “Where’s Ashton?” 

“Getting lost in the shame of his past mistakes,” Michael teases as an answer. Ashton smiles, where he’s in the closet, but just shakes his head and continues searching through his belongings. 

Luke looks confused, and is about to say something back, but then Calum comes running down the hall. “It’s not true, it’s not true!” He looks panicked, but Luke looks overjoyed. 

“Okay, so Michael,” Luke starts, completely forgetting about Ashton’s disappearance and Michael’s riddle. “You won’t believe this - ”

“No, shut up!” Calum yells, and Michael just laughs, shaking his head. He can see Ashton smiling at him in the closet as he looks through his shelves. He frowns quickly, pulling a random soccer ball off the shelf, looking at it like he doesn’t know what it is, but then he continues his search, keeping the ball in his grip. “You look happy.”

Michael looks up at the observation, said in Calum’s soft voice, aware that he has a dopey grin on his face, that he always does these days. He’s so fucking gone for Ashton. 

“Of course he does,” Luke agrees. “They’re perfect together.”

“Aren’t you glad we made you ask him out?” Calum wonders and suddenly, Ashton being in the room isn’t as funny. 

Michael’s eyes get wide, he looks to the closet where Asthon’s frowning, staring at him accusingly. Michael shakes his head, but Luke picks up where Calum left off. “Or not even that, but that we _kept_ making you. I can’t believe you ever said you wouldn’t do it.” 

“What’d you call him that first time?” Calum checks, and Michael wants to kill both of them, but his eyes aren’t getting that across well enough, apparently. “A weasel?” 

“ _Guys_ ,” Michael yells. He can feel himself panicking, feels his heart tensing in his chest, Ashton looks _furious_ where he stands, angry and broken. 

“No, it was a shrew!” 

Before Michael can announce his plans to absolutely fucking slaughter two idiots, Ashton comes storming out of his closet, the soccer ball still in his hand. “You called me a _shrew_?” When Calum and Luke look shocked, Michael feels like it’s not a reward enough for the misery they just started. “You… what, you didn’t want to date me?”

“No, it wasn’t - ”

“Shut _up_ , Luke,” Michael snaps, not wanting any more input, knowing it’ll only make things worse. He turns to Ashton. “They _pushed_ me to ask you out because I was too nervous to.”

“And you turned him down,” Calum adds, probably thinking he’s helping, but absolutely is not. “So he thought you didn’t like him, but if you would’ve said yes, Luke could’ve said yes to _me,_ and - ” Luke puts his hand over Calum’s mouth. 

“That’s not the part he needed to know, Cal,” he mutters, but it’s far too late. 

Ashton’s shoulders slump just slightly, he looks defeated and beaten and mad. “I knew you didn’t like me, I _knew_ this was a set up.” 

“Ashton…” Michael sets his work down and stands up. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Really?” Ashton laughs, the sound bitter and broken. “What was it like? A pep talk as down payment now, and then a bonus for sleeping with me?” 

“No, he didn’t take the money.” 

At Calum’s denial, Ashton’s jaw drops. “You were _actually_ offered money to date me?” He looks disgusted - with Michael or himself, it’s not clear. The only thing that _is_ clear is that Michael fucked up worse than he ever has in his entire life, and Calum Hood has a death wish. 

“No, I didn't care about the money, okay? I cared… I cared about _you_.” 

Ashton stares at him, and for a moment Michael thinks it’ll all be okay, that Ashton is going to nod and all will be okay, but he looks at Michael, then around the room, then down at himself, and sighs. “You’re not the person I thought you were.” 

Michael feels his heart pause in his chest, cracking directly down the center. “Ash - ”

“I want you to leave,” Ashton says decisively. Michael takes a step forward, wanting to hold Ashton, to kiss him and assure him that everything between them is exactly the same as it has been, despite their shitty start, but the soccer ball in Ashton arms is being shoved into Michael’s gus with a force that aches. “ _Go_.” 

The rejection has Michael shaking his head. He feels like the biggest failure in the universe as he grabs his books and sulks out of the apartment. Ashton deserves so much better than him, and Michael always knew it. It’s why he never wanted to say yes, why he should've said no and let Ashton continue living his life without knowing this hurt that he’s feeling, that Michael caused. He doesn’t know if he wants to fix it, or to leave completely and let Ashton continue on.

Because even as Michael leaves, distraught that he’s losing the most important person to him, it feels numb compared to the agony of knowing he’s hurt Ashton. 

✩✭✩

Calum’s guilt has only managed to build higher in the past two day. He and Luke have spent their time together, suffering silently in their embarrassment, feeling too much shame for the chaos they caused to even hold hands. They’re monsters, thinking they could toy with Ashton’s emotions just for a date, and they’re horrible friends for not keeping the fact that they did quiet. 

Somehow, they've managed to be so goddamn selfish that they’ve ruined two lives just by having feelings for each other. 

From where he lies in Luke’s bed, Calum looks at his reflection on the door mirror, immediately looking down in disgust. He’s the fucking worst. 

In the midst of their quiet depression, there’s a knock on the door. It’s rather quiet as far as knocks go, but it still has Calum gasping, he and Luke jolting in tandem as Ashton cracks the door open. 

“Can I come in?” He asks. It’s directed at Luke, but Calum nods enthusiastically, ready to do anything to make up for his heartlessness. “I just wanted to take a moment to forgive you both.”

As Ashton makes his way into the room, Luke and Calum exchange a disgusted glance before they’re both sitting up. “Forgive?” Luke asks, appalled. “Ashton we were _horrible_.”

“No you weren't.” 

“We are!” Calum insists. Ashton grins at the insistence and sits on the bed. Calum considers if he should get on the floor to show respect and repentance. He deserves it. 

“We asked Michael to take you out because I wanted to go on a date,” Luke reminds him, but Ashton shakes his head with a small laugh. 

“You would’ve gone out with Calum anyway if you didn’t care about making sure I was okay.” For someone who was wronged in a cruel and malicious way, Ashton looks far too upbeat and kind-hearted. “You got Michael to go out with me because you want me to be happy. I can’t be mad at that.” Calum bites his lip at the truth in the statement. Luke was always concerned with making sure Michael was good for Ashton. “And I’m happy for you and Calum, that you found each other. You’re sweet together.” Calum feels like garbage for ever trying to manipulate Ashton - he deserved none of it. “And if I’m meant to be single, then that’s okay. But you two need each other.” 

Calum huffs and Luke scoots forward. “Michael _really_ likes you.” 

“Yeah, he only - ”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ashton shakes his head sadly, cutting Calum off. His lips are downturned and his eyes focus steadily on the heavy peach comforter. “He had his reasons, and that’s fine. He hasn’t apologized yet, so I think it’s over.” 

“Over?” Calum asks. Last he heard, Michael was working on a master plan to show Ashton that he’s sorry. It can’t be _over_. “But you both love each other.” 

Ashton laughs, shaking his head. “We dated for a few weeks. I wouldn’t call that love.”

“What would you call it then?” Calum’s lips are pursed, he hates that Ashton’s trying to deny that it was something _real_ with them, that they were amazing. The reason Calum and Luke stupid fucking plan even worked in the first place was because of the genuine connection that Ashton and Michael had together. It was love. 

“A mistake, apparently,” Ashton says, but Calum gets the feeling he doesn’t mean it. “Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head, letting himself smile again, but Luke and Calum exchange a look - the three of them very aware how fake his happiness really is. “Six more months to graduation!” He cheers, but it’s just as fake. Calum wants to see him happy, and when he looks at Luke, he knows they share the same though: 

Michael had _better_ fix this. 

✭✩✭

“And of _course_ , without Hugo you wouldn’t have some of the most iconic stories that graced the screen in your development - ”

19th Century Literature is almost over, but their professor keeps going on about Victor Hugo. Michael sighs, not for the first time, and continues staring three rows in front of him where Ashton’s been all lecture, stiff and silent, not giving any back and forth like he usually does. Michael just wants to give him some kind of signal that it’s _today_ , that he’s going to make everything right just after class. 

Instead, Ashton’s sitting stock still. He won’t answer questions, and he won’t ask them. He’s a statue, a shell reduced to nothing with Michael's shitty actions. 

“Hugo was a man of charm and wit and literary skill. He inspired many - ” As the professor continues, Michael’s foot is tapping. They’re almost done with the lecture, almost out of here, and Michael's anticipation is only rising. “Before I let you all go, I’d like to read a letter to you. From Juliette Drouet, Hugo’s mistress.. I think it perfectly encapsulates just how spellbound everyone was at his written word.”

The words spark a familiarity in Michael, and he sits up straight, eyes lasered in on the back of Ashton’s head, not wanting to miss a moment of his reaction, even if Michael’s certain it’ll make him feel even worse about his game. 

“ ‘ _If only I were a clever woman, I could describe to you my gorgeous bird, how you unite in yourself the beauties of form, plumage, and song! I would tell you that you are the greatest marvel of all ages, and I should only be speaking the simple truth…You are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colors, but the sun himself, that illumines, warms, and revivifies! This is what you are, and I am the lowly woman that adores you._ ’ ”

Most of the class looks bored, nobody paying much mind to one of the most beautiful love letters of all time being read to them. Ashton, though, looks devastated. He peeks back at Michael halfway through the prose, eyes glazed and pain reading on his face. As the letter comes to an end, Ashton faces forward, hand coming up weakly to wipe at his eye. 

“You’re dismissed.” 

Ashton’s the first person out of the classroom, swiping his books haphazardly off his desk, running out the door. Michael follows quickly, not wanting Ashton to run past his surprise. When he makes it out of the lecture hall, he nearly runs into Ashton’s back where he’s standing tensely, staring at what Michael’s set out for him. 

On the first table outside of the building, sits a painting - the very one Michael was working on when Ashton came to confront him about his letter. It’s painted with carefully aimed balloons thrown at the canvas, leaving a few splashes out of place. The subject of the portrait - the subject of all of Michael’s thoughts as of late - is Ashton. His face, angled at the side, permanently crafted, forever kept in Michael’s art. 

Ashton turns quickly, facing Michael with wide eyes, and Michael grins. “Fuck subtelty.” 

“What is this?” Ashton wonders. Though his voice is full of surprise, there’s a tick in the corner of his mouth, the dried tears on his cheek giving away a shine to the smile he’s trying to hide.

“I was a jerk,” Michael answers simply. “I believe you once called me a _prick_ , and you weren’t wrong. Ashton slowly begins to grin with Michael's explanation, but it’s not enough. Michael wants to grovel, to tell Ashton that it’s more than an apology, it’s an offer for something bigger between them, something Michael doesn’t want until Ashton knows how much he means. “I didn’t kiss you after the party because I realized how shitty it was for me to date you for the benefit of Calum and Luke when you’re so _fucking_ special, and you deserve to be loved with pure intentions.”

“And you couldn’t - ”

Stopping the self-doubt before it can really form, Michael cuts Ashton off. “I ended it,” he says. “With Calum and Luke. I told them I wouldn’t date you anymore because it wasn’t right, but… But I really liked you, Ashton. Even when you were turning me down and calling me ‘screwboy.’” 

A wet laugh slips free from Ashton. “Liked?” The doubt is gone from his voice now and he sounds more hopeful than sorrowful - a good sign for Michael. 

“ _Like_ ,” he corrects, emphasising just how current his affections are. “I could even love you, so fucking easily if you’d let me.”

“How do I know you won’t do something stupid again?”

“I’ll _definitely_ do something stupid again,” Michael guarantees. Ashton’s smile is wide and infectious. Everything is turning out exactly as it should. “But I know that my stupidity will never be ill-intended like it was before. I only agreed to it in the first place because I wanted to see more of you.” There’s a pause before Michael admis, “and you were right.”

“I was?” Ashton checks, and Micahel nods in response. “About what?” 

With his right leg first, Michael steps forward, slowly beginning to close the gap between them. “You were right the night of the party. I didn’t want you at first because I didn’t know you. And when I did know you, when you let me in, I didn’t just want you - I needed you.” 

Though Ashton’s not crying anymore, Michael can tell he’s emotional with the confession. His palm wipes at his nose, and it should be gross, but it’s _Ashton,_ and Michael can’t help but be captivated by everything he does - even if it is kind of disgusting. 

“You know you can’t just paint me every time you screw up.”

“I’m aware.” Michael nods seriously, knowing this isn’t a solve-all, but when he sees the twinkle in Ashton's eye, he smirks, taking the last slow steps between them. “There’s also sculpture, photography, sketching - ”

His list is cut off by Ashton’s tight grip on the collar of his shirt, hauling him in for a kiss. It’s a good method, as far as distraction tactics go, and with Ashton’s tongue in his mouth, Michael can’t be mad about it. 

He couldn’t hate it if he tried. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated
> 
> [Come talk to me on Tumblr!](http://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com)
> 
> *I will not be watching The Pirates of the Caribbean movies.


End file.
